Millicent gestured for Nox to follow. They made their way down the now empty town house toward the Madame’s office. Despite the fact that Nox had been under the Selkie’s roof for over a year, it was only her third time in the space. It was precisely as ornate and gaudy as one might expect from a woman who wore jewel-toned gowns and black fur shawls. Millicent was too vain ever to remove her elbow-length gloves, lest she dirty her hands or expose them to sunspots. The woman covered nearly every inch of her walls with art, including a lavish oil portrait of herself commissioned in a rather flattering light. Statuettes, jewels, feathered quills, and even the taxidermied body of a snowcat with its exotic, speckled face forever frozen in a threatening snarl. The office would have been ridiculous had it belonged to anyone else. Millicent, however, fit right in like a dragon atop her hoard of treasure.

Nox wasn’t sure what to do or why she was here. Still feeling the aching need to hold her knees to her chest, she sat near the desk and curled into a ball while Millicent continued scanning her shelves.

“Ah, here we are.” The woman pulled a black-bound book embossed with gilded symbols from the wall. The Madame’s elaborate ringlets bounced slightly as she sat in her high-backed chair across the desk from Nox. Millicent flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for. Eyes twinkling triumphantly, she turned the book over and pushed it across the desk.

Nox looked at the Madame’s feline grin, then down at the page. Her face twisted in confusion. She straightened her back and leaned closer to the book.

“What is this?”

Millicent shook her head as she said, “I think the question is, dear, what are you?”

Nox pulled the book closer to herself and read the entry in earnest. The passage started with a simple term, a definition, a territory, and a list of powers and ended with runes and wards for protection against and methods of defeat. Below that was a horrid illustration of a woman straddling a man, black wings outstretched, talons dug into the helpless flesh of the human male below as the creature arched in pleasure. The unmistakable drawing of the ghostly tendrils of his soul left his mouth as they were sucked out by the creature. It was a foul drawing.

“I’m not this!” Nox gasped.

Millicent rolled her eyes slightly. “Yes, the old tomes have a flair for the dramatic, don’t they? However, I’m rather pleased to be the one to tell you: yes, you are.”

Nox straightened further, slamming the book shut. Her eyes flashed with anger and disgust. She argued, “That’s not possible! I’m not! I’ve never shown a single inclination toward this evil, this demonic—”