“We’re looking for Lucas Cortez,” Green Tie said. “His father sent us.”

My heart thumped, but I pasted on a smile. “I’m sorry, but Lucas is in court today.”

“Then Mr. Cortez would like to speak to you.”

He half turned, directing my gaze to a king-size black SUV idling in the no-stopping zone. So these two weren’t just messengers; they were Benicio’s personal half-demon bodyguards.

“I’m honored,” I said. “Tell him to come on up. I’ll put on the kettle.”

Red Tie’s mouth twisted. “He’s not going up. You’re going over there.”

“Really? Wow, you must be one of those psychic half-demons. I’ll speak to Benicio, but since I didn’t request this audience, he’s coming to me.”

When neither moved, I cast under my breath and waved my fingers at them.

“You’re messengers. I’ve given the message. Now deliver.”

As my fingers flicked, they stumbled back. Red Tie recovered his balance and glowered, as if he’d like to launch a fireball at me, or whatever his demonic specialty might be.

I reached for the door handle. As the door swung open, a hand appeared over my head and grabbed it. I looked up to see Green Tie: I expected him to hold the door shut, but he pulled it open and followed me in.

As we waited for the elevator, my resolve faltered. I was about to get into a small, enclosed place with a half-demon literally twice my size. Yet what were my options? If I ran, I’d be exactly what they expected: a timid witch-mouse. Nothing I did in the future would ever erase that. On the other hand, I could step on the elevator and never step off. Death or dishonor? For some people, there’s really no choice.

When the elevator doors opened, I walked on.

The half-demon followed. As the doors closed, he took off his sunglasses. His eyes were a blue so cold they made the hairs on my arms rise. He pressed the Stop button. The elevator groaned to a halt.

“You ever seen this scene in a movie?” he asked.

I looked around. “Now that you mention it, I think I have.”

“Know what happens next?”

I nodded. “The hulking bad guy attacks the defenseless young heroine, who suddenly reveals heretofore unimagined powers, which she uses to not only fend off his attack but beat him to a bloody pulp. Then she escapes”—I craned my head back—“out that handy escape hatch and shimmies up the cables. The bad guy recovers consciousness and attacks, whereupon she’s forced, against her own moral code, to sever the cable with a fireball and send him plummeting to his death.”

“Is that what happens?”

“Sure. Didn’t you see that one?”

HAUNTED

HAUNTED