No one could see the demon, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t very much there, currently sharing her scantily clad body.

Why wasn’t Eden freaking out over the fact that she was possessed by a demon? She had. Many times. She’d since realized that no matter how much freaking out she did, it didn’t do much to change the situation.

Three hundred years ago, Darrak had barely survived a witch’s death curse. It had destroyed his physical form, leaving only his essence behind. He’d existed for three centuries unseen and mostly unheard by the hosts he’d been forced to possess.

That is, until he’d possessed Eden.

For some reason — and it was probably because she was a little bit psychic and had been for as long as she could remember — he was able to feed off of her energy to communicate with her at night in her head and take physical form during daylight hours.

Until they found a way to break his curse and return him to full power so he could reform a permanent body, they were stuck like this. And screaming about it wasn’t going to do anything except make her throat hurt.

There was someone in this club tonight who could help them. A specialist in the affairs of Others — aka the “otherworldly”—who would know where they’d need to go for curse removal. Whether this person was human or not was something the demon hadn’t yet shared with her.

Demons, witches, fairies, and werewolves, Eden thought as she scanned the crowd of seemingly normal mingling singles. Welcome to my new life. I definitely need a drink.

The bartender eyed her when she slid onto a tall stool. “What’s your pleasure?”

“Uh. . I’ll have a white wine. Thanks.”

“That’s so boring,” Darrak commented internally. “A white wine? Could you order a more generic drink?”

She cleared her throat and tried to keep the smile fixed on her face.