She squeezed the soft flesh of that vulnerability in her hand a little tighter. “Awww…not having fun? I’m sorry.” She twisted until he gasped. “Really.”

Stefan made a gurgling noise somewhere in his throat.

“Does it frighten you to stare into the eyes of your own mortality, Stefan? Do you ever wonder what happens to us when we die? Do we blink out like a light, or do we live on?” She paused, tilting her head to the side. “Is death only another life? Hmm…what do you think?”

“I don’t…know,” he gritted out.

“I think you’re about to find out.”

“Who…are you?” His lips formed the words, but there wasn’t enough breath to give them life. She eased up a little. He’d pass out otherwise and it was too soon for that.

“That is not the relevant question at this juncture. The real question is about Angela, Stefan.”

Confusion clouded his eyes.

Oh, that was the wrong answer. Power flared down her arm, making her fingers ache. His head snapped back in pain and she forcibly eased up on him.

“Angela?” he gasped.

“Angela Novak. The last witch murdered by your demon.” She clamped down harder. “You can’t even remember her name?”

His lips peeled back in a grimace. “Not…my…demon.”

“Well, no. Maybe not technically. Your father, William Crane, raised the demon that killed Angela. Crane and his minions. But your father is dead and you’ve taken his place at the head of the Duskoff. The Duskoff is the reason the demon exists in this dimension. Therefore, the Duskoff is responsible for Angela’s death and the death of Melina Andersen, the first witch the demon killed.”