Ro released me, and I stepped back, trying to gather the thoughts he'd scattered with a kiss. They swirled thick and fast as the metaphorical butterflies in my stomach, but Ro spoke before I could fix on one.

"Did it work?" he asked, arching his brows.

I blinked and forced my tingling lips to form words. "Did what work?"

"The kiss. A vampire's spell is one of fatal attraction," he said, sounding much more like his usual self. "Like the moth to the flame. A sudden shock usually breaks the victim out of it. I figured a kiss would do the trick. So, did it? Or do you still have an irresistible urge to donate blood?"

A cold wave of understanding washed through me, and the metaphorical butterflies dropped dead.

Of course he hadn't kissed me because he'd wanted to; it was just a means to an end.

The next wave that hit me was one of self-loathing, as I realized what a terrible disappointment this was, and I turned away so he wouldn't see the stupid hurt on my face.

"Yes, it worked," I said, and took an unsteady step towards the bed. Suddenly exhausted, all I wanted was to change into my night clothes and go to sleep. "Thanks for the rescue."

"What were you doing down there, anyway?" he asked, following closely at my back, as if afraid I might still bolt for the club the first chance I got. "Did you think I was joking when I said you'd be eaten alive?"

A bitter laugh rose to my lips. "Yes, actually. I didn't think the warning was meant to be literal."

I kicked off my shoes and shrugged off my shirt; then I grabbed the soft tee I'd slept in the night before and pulled it over my head. I'd have to ask Janelle if there was a washing machine I could use, or if I'd have to beg some quarters off Tobin or Luke and look for a laundromat. With all the supernatural shit in my life, I'd almost forgotten about the mundane; but it was still there, staring back at me in the fact I had almost no clean clothes left to wear.

"Tobin invited me to watch him DJ," I continued. "I just wanted to get to know my options, is all."

"Options?"

I turned and found Ro standing very close. His nearness prodded my heart back to unhealthy speeds and resurrected the dead butterflies in my stomach.

Zombie butterflies. Wonderful.

I snorted at my internal joke and fell to sit on the edge of the bed, running a shaking hand through my hair and keeping my eyes on the floor.

"Yeah. I need a familiar, remember?"

A handful of seconds passed in silence, and then Ro spoke in a soft, curiously low voice.

"You have a familiar," he said. "I'm right here."

I glanced up to find him watching me intently. Tired of his games, I got to my feet again and pushed past him, headed for the door. I wanted to brush my teeth, go to bed, and forget the entire evening had ever happened. There was a reason my default answer to social invitations was "no."

"You know what I mean," I said, my mouth twisting as if I'd bitten into something sour. "I need a permanent, bonded familiar. One who actually wants to be with me."

Ro followed me again, and as I grasped the knob, he reached past me and held the door shut.

"Maybe you didn't hear me before," he said, still in that strange, low voice. "I said I didn't hate you, Ellie."

I rounded on him, glaring and feeling very small beneath his yellow-eyed stare.

"Great. I'm glad you don't hate me," I snapped. "You also said, 'that's the problem.' I'm not like my father, Ro. I don't care about power. I'd rather bond with the weakest familiar who actually likes me than spend my life bound to someone who barely tolerates my existence. I barely tolerate my existence," I added and bit my lip.

Turning away quickly, I yanked at the knob again, blinking against the threat of tears.

"I'm just going to the bathroom," I grumbled. "Not to 'donate blood,' or whatever."

Ro kept his hand on the door.

"I don't think you quite understand," he said, very close to my ear. "You're my witch, Ellie."

His tone sent a chill up my spine, and I remembered how he'd looked in the club—like a terrifying demon.

"Temporarily," I amended in a whisper, "until I can find–"

He grasped my shoulders and spun me around, forcing me to face him, and I flinched away and bumped against the door at my back. 'Manhandled by a Demon' sounded like good entertainment, and might be fun as a consensual activity, but presently it was a little terrifying.

"A daemon can sense their witch," Ro said, crowding me against the door. "And I don't mean the witch they bond with. I mean their witch: the witch whose magic is a perfect match for the daemon's power. A daemon is lucky to cross paths with such a witch once in a lifetime—if at all. Your father certainly wasn't mine. In fact, we were poorly matched. But you..."

He licked his bottom lip and bit it thoughtfully as his eyes traveled my face.

"I'd never suspected it when you were a child, but when I tracked you down again after your father's death, it was obvious. I knew the instant I set eyes on you that you were perfect. And I was horrified. It was the last thing I wanted, or expected, to find."

He leaned a little closer, and I wondered if he could hear my heart beating against my ribs like a wild thing in its cage, desperate to get out.

He shook his head. "I told myself it didn't matter. You'd only inherited me, and there was no reason for us to bond. I'd serve as your familiar until I fulfilled your father's last command, and then I'd be free. Besides, you were your father's child. It would be easy to hate you. Except I don't."

"And... that's a problem?" I asked.

My tired, semi-alarmed brain had barely kept up with this spiel, and his nearness held most of my attention. The zombie butterflies were up and fluttering again.

He nodded. "Yes. A very bad problem. There are many ways I might have shocked you free of Carmella's spell, Ellie. Kissing you was simply the first that came to mind. Probably because I'd been thinking about it so much, already."

I blinked, sure I had misheard him. He leaned even closer, his chest almost touching mine.

"But you're not enchanted anymore, are you?" he murmured, frowning slightly. "So, there's absolutely no reason for me to kiss you again."

I shook my head.

He held my gaze. "And yet I want to. Very much."

The zombie butterflies swarmed, and in a whisper of breath, I said, "Okay, then."

So, with my back against the door and his hands trapping me in place, he kissed me again.

My mind went blank as he possessed my senses. He kissed me breathless and then mumbled something against my lips.

"A'rozimbrel."

"What?"

"My true name is A'rozimbrel," he murmured. "Don't laugh."

I pushed him away, and my eyes went wide with shock as I understood what it meant for him to tell me this, and he backed up an inch or so, frowning down at me.

"Ro..."

A slight smile quirked his lips. "I trust you, Ellie."

"But what about your freedom?" I whispered.

He shook his head. "I've changed my mind, and I can't bear the thought of you bonding with someone else. I want you for myself. Besides, two close calls in hardly more than two days is too much."

He took my hands, lifted them to his lips, and kissed them. "So, what do you say, Ellie Harris? Will you be my witch?"

I shivered. "Is it that easy?"

"Almost. The bond is a demonic pact. You just have to agree to it of your own free will."

I stared up at him. He was, indeed, a demon: from his silky, shadowed hair to the fangs that showed when he spoke, and from his slit-pupiled eyes to his sharp claws. And yet—despite my alarm and emotional turmoil—I didn't fear him. In fact...

I nodded, trying to gather my thoughts, though it felt like scooping water with a sieve.

"Okay," I said shakily. "But we have to agree. My promise is still good: I won't make you do anything you don't want to do, and if you ever ask me to release you, I will—no matter what. And as for you...." I swallowed and held his yellow gaze. "If you really, truly, honestly want this... then yes, I'll be your witch... A'rozimbrel."

He grinned. "So be it."

I felt a sharp pain as he pricked the pad of my thumb with the tip of a claw, and gasped as he licked the bead of blood that quickly welled there, reddening his tongue.

I tasted the coppery tang of it as he kissed me a third time, and then something inside me exploded like a supernova, blinding me from within.

Ro held my weight, and I sensed him as he truly was—more than his physical form: an immense, dark presence, vast and powerful. He enveloped me, merged with me; entwined himself with the magic that burned like a wild green sun at my core until I could no longer distinguish where I ended and he began.

I lost track of time; galaxies collided and broke apart; stars were born, and died, and born again in the darkness and the swirl of cosmic dust.

Gradually, the chaos stilled, the roar in my ears faded, and my vision cleared. I returned to myself; to where I gasped for breath and trembled helplessly in Ro's arms.

He gazed down at me and smiled.

"Congratulations, Ellie," he said. "You've made your first demonic pact."

And then, as I had when I first met him, I demonstrated my impressiveness and passed out.

❧

I woke to morning sunlight streaming through the windows and found myself lying in bed. Ro lay pressed to my back, his arm looped around my waist and his legs tangled with mine. He seemed to be asleep, a contented purr rumbling in his chest, which was a bit weird, but not unpleasant.

A few minutes passed, in which I lay in a comfortable haze, my mind blissfully empty.

Then memory returned like a rush of water filling a bowl, and I sat up with a gasp, staring down at Ro. Disturbed by the movement, he stirred, blinked awake, and grinned lazily, showing sharp teeth.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said.

It was the same thing he'd said the first time I'd awoken to find him in my bed, and confusion swirled my brain.

"Did... Did that really happen?" I asked. "Are we really bonded, now?"

"Mmhm." He reached to pull me back down, gently but irresistibly, and I gave in and let him fold me in his arms. He squeezed me contentedly, like a cat hugging a toy in its sleep. "Can't you feel it? You're all mine now, Ellie," he murmured.

I did feel something: a strange sensation, as if I were filled with fizzy water. But after a few careful breaths, I realized it wasn't the bond. It was happiness.

"Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?" I asked, when my thoughts settled down again. "I thought the familiar belonged to the witch?"

"In the usual terms, maybe; in the terms your father bound me with, certainly. This is different." Raising himself on one elbow, he looked down at me, his hair spilling like a black curtain over his shoulder, and smiled. "You're different. And I'll have my revenge, Ellie. We both will. We'll prove your father wrong, and you'll be a hundred times the witch he ever dreamed to be. Because you've got something he never had."

"What?" I asked, blinking up at him.

"My affection," he said, and bent to kiss me lightly.

It was different in the sober morning light, though, and I set my hands on his chest and pushed him away.

"Wait," I whispered, searching his yellow eyes for signs of teasing or laughter. "What is this, Ro?"

His expression remained thoughtful and open. "I don't know," he said softly. "I didn't know it could be like this. I suppose... we'll find out."

He leaned toward me again, but I still held him back.

"Can we find out... a little more slowly?" I asked.

A lazy grin stretched his lips. "As slow as you like," he said, and this time I did detect a tease, but it wasn't mean. "But you're right," he added, as my stomach gave a quiet growl. "One thing at a time; and right now, it's time for breakfast."