Page 1 of Demon's Beauty

1

Soleil

Esme Hawthorn looks as pleased as I’ve ever seen her.

It’s still nowhere nearhappyor evencontent, but as the High Priestess leans back in her chair with her arms folded over her chest, her eyes sparkle with a satisfaction only a handful of witches ever get to see.

To have the Crescent Coven’s leader look at me like that should be a blessing. It should be all the confirmation I need that I’m on the right track. I’ve made the right decision.

Instead, I feel like I might puke.

My heart is in my throat, the sensation of falling and flying all at the same time.

Every muscle tense, waiting, barely able to stay in my seat as I wait for her to pass judgment.

I’m right on the edge of fleeing this room and never looking back.

I’ve got no idea where those thoughts are coming from, no idea what to do about them.

But I’ve got over two decades of practice hiding my feelings when I’m in the Crescent Coven hall, so I make myself smile. Not effusively, but with eyes downcast, demure, like all smart witches know to act in front of the High Priestess.

I should be grinning after the day I’ve had.

My final qualifying test with the coven’s potions master just concluded. Priestess Sonja is an exacting mentor with expectations and standards high enough to send other witches running toward a course of study less tedious to master.

But I passed her exam with flying colors.

Three days. I’ve spent three days babysitting the dreamsbane potion she set as my task to make. The finicky, devastatingly temperamental brew required me to give up nights of my own dreaming to check in on it around the clock.

And it came out perfectly.

Sonja tested it and spent last night lucid dreaming, walking through dreamlands that had her as close tobeamingas I’ve ever seen her when she woke and cast her final judgment this morning.

I should be riding high, taking a victory lap, resting on my laurels, and ready to take the next step into the life I’ve been striving for since I was a child.

To become one of the exalted few Crescent Coven priestesses. To sit on the council and make decisions for the entire coven.

To finally have a real voice here after so many years following orders.

“I have no doubt your Ascension will go smoothly,” Esme says, and my heart sinks even further. “Just three weeks until Samhain, and you’ll take the place that’s always been waiting for you.”

“I hope the Goddess finds me worthy.”

Her smile sours a little, like that wasn’t the answer she was expecting, but I only get a glimpse before she schools her features back into neutrality.

“I’m sure she will.” The High Priestess gestures toward the door. “Now, I hear you’ve got a full day ahead. Priestess Marjorie told me about the problem you’re helping her with.”

My molars grind together, but I make myself nod and stand. “Yes. Goddess willing, we’ll get her all sorted out.”

Oh yes, Goddess willing.

I absolutely can’t wait to spend the day tinkering with an anti-wrinkle concoction that will meet her oh so high standards.

I’m almost to the door, still stewing in resentment about how I’ll have to spend my day instead of doing some useful, meaningful work, when Esme speaks again.

“Soleil.”

I turn back to face her.