Nicholas woke up in a dark room, staring at a white ceiling that glowed green. He felt sluggish, like something was pressing down on him, making it hard to think. His body felt distant, almost unreal. But before he could process it, his mind went straight to Harper. And a death-like dread washed over him.
The last thing he remembered was her screaming. Reapers; hooded men in green cloaks had stormed their apartment, restraining him and dragging her away from their Albany apartment. Harper was in her final trimester. Making it especially difficult to be on the run from the Glades; a secret order that polices the supernatural. And from their families, who had forbidden their love. But now the Glades have found them.
Their union was a violation of both their worlds. Nicholas, a demon dreamer, and Harper, a witch from an ancient bloodline—any child they conceived was considered taboo.
According to the Glades, such children had to be surrendered at birth. Any supernatural couple who defied this law faced the most excruciating punishment imaginable.
The Screeding.
No one had ever survived a Screeding to tell the tale. It was said to trap a person's consciousness in an endless cycle of nightmares—each one more agonizing than the last. An eternity of suffering.
A shiver crawled through Nicholas' body. Was this his Screeding? Was this his punishment—to exist in a world where Harper was gone, her fate unknown? And their unborn child…
A sharp panic took hold of him. He tried to turn his head, but his body didn't respond. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. He tried to feel his arms, his legs—anything—but there was only numbness. He was all mind, trapped in a hollow shell. Harper's terrified face flashed in his mind, her wide, desperate eyes. His heart pounded in his chest. Was she still alive? Had they hurt her?
A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye. He could feel it. If he could feel his tears, then he still had physical form. Hope sparked in his chest. Then rage followed, sharp and searing.
Suddenly, above him, shadows flickered across the ceiling. He strained his eyes upward. A group of figures stood in a circle, their forms dark and shifting. They held hands, chanting in an odd language. One he knew he had heard before.
In his dreams.
A sudden clarity hit him. These weren't witches. They were demons. And they were summoning something.
Or someone.
But who had summoned them? Nicholas had lost his ability to summon demons the moment Harper had conceived. The questions and possibilities twisted in his mind as his rage grew.
As the chanting continued, a second voice rose in his mind—a counter-chant, opposing theirs. The demons stiffened. Their shadows stretched unnaturally along the ceiling before dropping to the floor, taking physical form all around him. Fifteen of them, all women, their faces eerily familiar.
Recognition settled over him like ice. He had seen them before. Every one of them had come to him in his dreams over the years, wearing different faces, seducing him as succubi. But this—this was their true form.
Harpers face flashed in his mind again, images of her being dragged away by the reapers, this time he saw her tears, her scream echoing in his skull. His body suddenly snapped into focus. He felt the cold concrete beneath him. The stiffness in his muscles. He flexed his fingers, curled them into a fist. His neck twitched as he forced it to move. Strength surged through him, growing with his fury.
The demons' chants turned frantic.
They were afraid.
Nicholas slowly pushed himself up, standing to his full height. Power hummed through his veins, his eyes glowing red. The demons encircled him, their bodies trembling as they chanted louder, their voices overlapping in desperation.
He felt full control of his body.
One by one, he turned their chants against them.
Madness took hold of them all.
Nicholas rose into the air, his body glowing. Watching as the demons scrambled, he dissolved them into their formless state and imprisoned them in a corner of his mind.
Then there was complete silence.
His glow faded as he descended back to the ground. He exhaled sharply, his heart still hammering in his chest.
Then he saw her.
Harper.
She was lying motionless in the corner of the room, encircled by salt. His breath caught. He rushed toward her, but an invisible force sent him stumbling back. A barrier. He pounded against it, his frustration growing with each failed attempt to break through.
Then, a voice whispered within him.
Recede from your demon self.
His body still burned with power. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to slow his breathing. He thought of Harper, her smile, the way she cradled her stomach with so much love. He pictured their child, safe in her arms. He focused on that warmth, on everything that made him human.
The fire within him dimmed to a low flicker.
He reached out again. This time, his hand passed through the barrier. Then his foot. No resistance.
Nicholas dropped to his knees beside Harper, cradling her head gently in his hands. His fingers trembled as he brushed her hair from her face.
She was so still.
He moved a finger under her nose.
But he couldn't feel her breathing.