“Good Lord!” Minias exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against my dresser. Bottles spilled, and he jerked forward. “It’s only a little imbalance,” he said, fingers fumbling to stand a bottle upright before he turned to ignore the rest, making me think that for a demon he didn’t have much experience in dealing with people. “You make your dates pay for everything, too, don’t you?” he added. “No wonder you can’t keep a boyfriend.”

“Shut up!” I yelled, hurting my throat. Oh, God. Kisten. Piscary had been lying. He had to have been. Otherwise I was going to have to decide if I was above revenge or not. And I wasn’t good at telling myself I couldn’t have something when I wanted it.

Minias’s eyes ran over the lines of my room as I sat on my bed in my underwear and a shirt and tried not to shake. “You have such interesting thoughts,” he said lightly. “No wonder witches are ephemeral. You drive yourself crazy. You should simply do what you want without the soul-searching.” His goat-slitted eyes fixed on me, and I felt my stomach drop. “It will be easier in the long run, Rachel Mariana Morgan.”

My pulse had slowed, and I was starting to believe I was going to survive this. “Rachel is fine,” I said, not liking him saying my middle name.

A single eyebrow rose. “You seem to be all right. Any urges to run under the moon?”

Refusing to shrink away, I let him get close enough that the scent of burnt amber settled deep in me. “No. Where’s the focus?”

“Feel the need to tear out people’s throats?” he asked.

“Just yours. Who has the focus? You took it out, where is it?”

He straightened, and I realized again how tall he was. “Ceri took it out, not me. And if there had been a way to help her do it wrong, I would have.”

“Just tell me who has the damned focus!” I exclaimed, and he snickered.

“Your alpha,” he said, and my stomach knotted. David? We’re back to square one.

“It settled in him as if it wanted to go,” the demon added, and my heart seemed to stop. David didn’t possess the focus; it possessed him? Like it had been inside of me?

“Where is he?” I said, springing off my bed. But there was nowhere to go.

“How should I know?” Minias lifted a bottle and sniffed the top, recoiling. “He’s handling it better than you are. It was made for a Were, not a witch. Taking it in you was stupid. Like dropping a chunk of sodium metal into a bucket of water.” The bottle hit the dresser with a clink.

I shifted uneasily, not knowing if I should believe him. “He’s okay?”