Page 92 of Bewitching Her Monsters

I finally look directly at him. “What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“No. I’m going to keep you safe.” He strokes my cheek.

“But why?” I turn my face away. I need to stay focused. “You think I’m your enemy—a witch.”

“Youaren’t my enemy. You were being used, from what we can figure out.”

“That’s what Osen said,” I sigh and rub my eyes with both hands. “He told me what happened with Rob. Not that you or your friends will believe me.”

“What did Osen say?” Maxum is suddenly in the doorway. Damn, he takes up the entire space.

“He said that Rob was using my ability to talk with spirits without my knowledge and tried to trigger some kind of hypnosis spell. When Rob realized that I had been compromised by having Osen in charge of my body, he attacked and left me to die.”

Arran looks at Maxum. “It makes sense—why Rob was so possessive and why we sensed her innocence.”

Maxum grunts in agreement. “How are you doing?” he asks me. “Why aren’t you running down the street screaming like a maniac about the existence of a magical world?”

“Because I don’t like running?” I shrug. “I’m sure my panic attacks will come in waves.” I try to sit up, and Arran helps me, placing pillows behind my back to prop me up. “Maybe I’m okay with it because I suspected magic was real with my abuela saying she was a witch and the weird dreams I’ve had my whole life. I just didn’t know it wasthisscary.”

Maxum grunts. “You’re telling the truth about that.”

“Are you a walking lie detector?” I ask.

“I can be.” He nods. “But usually, it scrambles the person’s brain, so I only do it if I’m desperate or desperately bored.”

My eyes widen. I believe him, even with my limited powers of reading people.

Giving Maxum the side-eye, Arran asks, “How much do you remember from last night’s conversation?”

“That you’re supes. I’m a witch. You hate me.”

“We don’t hateyou,” Maxum corrects with a sigh, and I’m surprised it’s him who does.

“Then why were you mean during brunch?” I ask.

“I thought you might have had something to do with Osen’s death.” Maxum narrows his eyes and reminds me, “You did spy on us at the bar.”

“I said I’m sorry about that.” My eyes widen when I think about how he said I wasn’t wrong about how I had guessed their personalities. “Wait a damned minute. Was I right? About all your supernatural abilities?” I almost feel giddy that I might have nailed the magical spy thing without having known it.

“Yes. I’m a demon,” Maxum confirms.

Arran squirms away uncomfortably.

“What about you?” I ask.

“Let’s come back around to that later,” he says in an ominous tone.

I pout but then recognize there is a lot to his situation if Osen’s dream is to be taken as fact. They mentioned Arran had a terrifying beast that his friends might have to kill if it took control.

Oh…

Arran’s beast might kill me after all and not even mean to.

I scoot back from him.

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