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open and Wilder stepped inside, leaving me no choice but to follow. So demons were a thing, as well as possessions and exorcisms… oh and magic. Were ghosts real too, because this place looked haunted as fu—

My breath caught as I found myself inside a place that looked anything but decomposed and abandoned—it was posh as.

We stood in a foyer of bland slate-colored stone, the floor shining with slices of veiny black marble. Overhead, an elaborate domed skylight let in the dawn, filling the space with orange-tinted sunlight. A small metal plaque was screwed to an otherwise plain wall ahead of us. Footsteps drew my attention and I turned before I had a chance to read what it said.

A man melted out of the shadows and strode towards us, not looking too pleased with our appearance.

“Wilder, what’s going on here?” he barked.

He was dressed in black from head to toe. A tight black T-shirt clung to a muscled torso, then came the black trousers and combat boots. I warily eyed the hilt tucked into a holster on his belt. It was another of those funky arondight blades Wilder carried. How many of these Natural people were there?

“Calm down, Brax,” Wilder snapped. “I’m in the middle of a crisis here. I need Ramona.”

He crinkled his nose in distaste. “What is that thing on your back?”

“That’s my best friend!” I exclaimed, my annoyance levels running at an all-time high.

The man Wilder had called Brax glanced at me, his confusion clear. “What’s she doing here?”

I bristled at Brax’s tone as he gestured to another man waiting in the wings, who immediately rushed off deeper into the building, his boots thumping against the marble.

“I’d be careful with that one,” Wilder said. “She bites.”

“Hard,” I added with a glare.

“You were meant to check in hours ago,” Brax went on, ignoring me completely. “What have you been screwing up this time?”

I made a face. Wilder must be the delinquent bad boy who constantly gave the middle finger to authority. Looking him over, I could see how it fit. Smart mouth, a distinct lack of respect—he had all the hallmarks of an anarchist.

“I’ve been reluctantly saving people from demons,” he drawled. “Can I put this thing down yet?”

“Where is he?” a woman asked, striding into the foyer. She was just as happy to see us as that Brax guy was. “Where is the human?” She was almost as tall as Wilder, her auburn hair pulled back into a severe braid, and her attitude was as sour as a lemon on a hot day.

“Ramona,” Wilder said to the woman as she came to a halt in front of us. “He was possessed by an Infernal. It’s chomped at his soul, I’m afraid.”

She pursed her lips as she looked at me, then immediately disregarded my presence. Why did they keep doing that?

“An Infernal?” She seemed worried about this and glanced at Jackson.

“There was nothing I could do at the scene,” he went on. “He needs—”

“Understood.” The woman clapped her hands and two men with a stretcher appeared.

I watched numbly as Wilder set him down and Jackson was carried away.

“Wait,” I called out. “Where are you taking him?”

The woman lingered, narrowing her eyes. “To the infirmary,” she stated. “He’ll get the care he requires.”

My skin crawled as I realised I was as unwelcome here as a fart in an enclosed space. My gaze bounced about the room, from one pair of untrusting eyes to the next.

“Wilder,” I rasped, tugging at his sleeve.

“You don’t have to worry about your geeky boyfriend,” he said. “Ramona will look after him and once he’s better, he’ll wake up at home none the wiser.”

“No, that’s—” The room tilted.

“He won’t remember being possessed, Purples. His soul will be repaired good as new.”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Not what?”

My vision blurred around the edges and a low hissing sound echoed in my ears. Great, just my luck.

“I don’t feel so good,” I muttered just before everything went dark.

7

Awareness came back slowly.

My eyes cracked open, revealing a room awash with soft light. Cream walls and a leather chair sat in the corner. A soft bed and a feathery pillow. I felt like I’d sunk into the mattress and was fused there. I closed my eyes again, hoping the next time I opened them, I’d be in my own bed. How long had I been asleep? I remembered passing out, but nothing after that.

“She’s had a rather eventful few days,” a female voice said. “She’ll wake when her body is rested enough.”

“So it wasn’t anything demonic?” Was that Wilder?

“No, merely human exhaustion. Besides, she wouldn’t have been able to cross the threshold if she were harbouring a demon.”

“Point…”

“From your report, she’s been through a great deal. Our world is confronting, but to this extent?”

“I know.” There was some rustling, but no one spoke for a while. “I’d like to be present when you test her.”

“Wilder, you know I can’t allow that.”

“She’s been through enough, and I’m a familiar face at least. If I—”

“I won’t be manipulated,” the woman snapped. “You know the parameters of your involvement here and they do not extend that far. The Codex doesn’t allow it.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched on for a while until Wilder said, “Understood.”

There was more rustling and the sound of a chair scraping back.

“You better decide what mask you’re going to wear today, Greer, because she’s awake.” Heavy footfalls crossed the room, then the door slammed shut, signaling that Wilder had stormed out. I had no idea what his role here was, but it seemed like he’d been demoted and wasn’t happy about it. Why wasn’t I surprised?

The gig was well and truly up, so I opened my eyes. At first I didn’t see much at all. Whoever was in the room with me was at my back, so I had a second to acclimatize before I turned over.

I glanced around, but it wasn’t like any posh hospital or hotel room I’d ever seen. Focusing on the woman sitting next to the bed,

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