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You weren’t the only succubus targeted last year, remember?”
    How could she even ask me that? Of course I remembered. I’d done nothing but remember for the last year and a half. “So this demon will be there tonight?”
    â€œYou got it.”
    A shaky breath caught in my chest. “I want to come.”
    Kayce shook her head with an eye roll and a snort. “Not a chance, Monica. They’ll recognize your aura immediately.”
    â€œNo . . . they won’t.” A smile curved on my lips as I whispered the incantation I’d been practicing for months. I imagined the bubble surrounding me, masking my powers, my aura. Once the spell was secure, I shifted into a dark-haired, shorter, curvier girl. My smile split into a full-on grin at Kayce’s dismayed face. “Not bad, huh?”
    She blinked. “I can’t sense you at all. You read just as . . . as a mortal would.” Her face fell. “One problem, though. Just how are we gonna get you into a demon bar?”
    â€œEasy.” The engine purred to life as I turned the keys. “I’ll be your conquest for the night.”
    Â 
    I fishhooked my car into a parking spot outside Suck ’n’ Swallow, clicking the engine off. As we made our way to the front door, Kayce slid her palm into mine, lacing our fingers together.
    A bouncer stood flanking the doorway, arms folded and face covered in stern authority. As we approached, I could feel the hum of magic as Kayce shapeshifted just her eyes. The bouncer nodded and inclined a chin to me. “Who’s your pet?”
    â€œOh, you know.” Kayce ran a knuckle down my jaw, and I nuzzled into her neck. “Just a little snack for later.” She winked at the bouncer, whose grin twitched in response. With a jerk of his head, we were in. So far, so good.
    The bar was busy for a Thursday night, but not uncomfortably so. It was apparently eighties night: Toto blared through the speakers, and a bunch of demons danced in neon-colored clothing and teased hair.
    â€œWant a drink?” Kayce’s eyes were wide, and she slid a glance to the bartender, who gave a less than subtle nod in our direction.
    â€œGin and tonic, please.”
    With a tug on my hand, she pulled me toward the bar. “Hey, Ink. Two gin and tonics.” Her eyes flashed, and he glanced at the clock.
    â€œWe missed it?” Kayce’s jaw dropped.
    â€œNot yet.” His voice rumbled as though he’d smoked a few too many packs of cigarettes in his existence. His long, jet-black hair, braided in one section, fell past his shoulders. A tribal-looking tattoo started near his hairline and swirled down one side of his face to his temple. “Any minute now.”
    â€œWell”—Kayce glanced at the front door—“when that minute arises, let me know what I owe ya for the drinks.”
    He nodded and, in one fluid movement, mixed up two tumblers for us. The tart lime flavor bubbled on my tongue and tickled my throat. I was used to smooth liquor, not the carbonated stuff. But like anything else, it just took a moment to acclimate.
    â€œSo where’s George tonight?” I said over the music.
    Kayce rolled her eyes. “God. That boy works way too much.”
    I curved a brow at Kayce. Who was she kidding? With a laugh, she nodded. “Okay, fine. Yes, we all work too much.”
    â€œI talked to him a few days ago. It sounds like the film is going really well, at least.”
    Kayce played with her glass. “I hope he isn’t gone the entire length of the shoot like last time.”
    I nodded in agreement as my eyes flitted around the room. Most of the faces were familiar, even if I didn’t know any of them specifically. But one face particularly stood out. Buckley stood by the jukebox, strumming his fingers along his whiskey glass.

5
    F ear was cemented in the pit of my stomach until it finally softened into something else—something