Chapter 1 #2
‘Wait!’ yelled the beautiful demon, but adrenaline danced through my veins, propelling me faster, leaving his curses bouncing off the alley walls.
My dream that night was the recurring dream I’d had over the past year. It was always the same place—one I didn’t recognise… I found myself back in the ethereal garden. The emotions I felt here were alien but good. I didn’t know the garden, but I sensed a connection to it on some weird level.
The garden was a wide-open space brimming with blooms of countless colours, with black marble walkways scattered symmetrically amid the perfect flowerbeds.
A copse of cypress trees encircled the garden; their fresh, woody fragrance filled the breeze.
The vibrant, cheerful colours of an enormous patch of narcissus always made me smile.
As I wandered around, I trailed my fingers over the flowers, and nature's electricity tingled through my fingertips.
Lipstick-pink peonies adorned the fringes of the garden, while honeysuckle festooned the trellises, a swarm of butterflies flitting around them, swirling in an array of exquisite colours.
Climbing roses, with clusters of abundant silken petals and green stems copiously armed with sharp thorns, infused my nose with their misty sweetness. Their paradox—the softness and beauty of the flowers, paired with the pain of the thorns—made them one of my favourite blooms.
The aroma of petrichor permeated the air—a potpourri of scents creating a sensory explosion. The full glory of the garden’s colours and fragrances made my soul sing with pleasure. As the lullaby of the breeze whispered in my ears, I sighed happily, and moved to the next flowerbed, inhaling deeply.
The tinkling sound of water was pure therapy.
In the centre of the beautiful garden, on a grassy expanse, sat a pond teeming with lily pads and water lilies.
In the middle of the enormous circular pond rose a lovely fountain with water cascading around a large pedestal—sculpted in the shape of two giant, intricately carved serpents, their bodies entwined in a sort of slow dance.
‘Hello again, Persephone,’ the deep, lyrical voice I was waiting for said to me as I spun around. I imagined from his tone that he’d be like one of the swoon-worthy men from my novels.
‘Why won’t you reveal yourself?’ I asked as I sat and lazily dipped my fingers into the water.
‘We shall meet soon, my queen.’
I laughed. He always called me ‘my queen’. ‘That sounds nice,’ I murmured. ‘If you’re half as sexy as your voice, I can’t wait.’ Lord, have mercy; I love this dream.
‘See you soon, sweetness,’ he breathed in my ear, and my heart skipped a beat.
I blinked awake as the world snapped into focus. My fists clenched the downy comforter, knuckles white, while the memories of last night slammed into me like a wrecking ball. The fear. The adrenaline. The utter chaos. It simmered beneath the surface now, momentarily dulled—but those eyes...
Those eyes still haunted me. And they freaked me the hell out.
My housemate Tee had been home when I’d returned.
She almost had a nervous breakdown at the state of me, but as always, she poured me a generous glass of wine, magicked a red velvet cake from somewhere, and calmed me down.
Obviously, I couldn’t tell her the entire truth…
battling a demon? Nope. So, I concocted a cock-and-bull story about some guy with weird blue and gold eyes scaring me.
She gave me a perplexed look but didn’t press further.
My gaze landed on my laptop and a stack of books on my desk.
My forthcoming days off would be filled with reading and book blogging.
Aside from nature, books were my next level of therapy—an escape into another world—and, let’s face it, men are so much better in books.
The tall, dark, devastatingly handsome, you-are-the-object-of-all-my-desires man of your dreams only ever happens in romance novels. Who needs spice in real life?
Releasing a long breath, I slid from my bed and made my way to the ensuite, deciding a long soak in the bath would soothe my aching muscles.
I’d inherited my home from my only family member…
my gran. She was as mad as a box of frogs, but the best person.
Plus, a powerful witch and former leader of the Council of Magic.
We eventually moved to London from New York when I was fourteen, after… I tried never to think of the reason for our move. That incident was buried deep in my subconscious, along with the dark magic I couldn’t control. Gran had passed away when I was seventeen, and I still missed her like crazy.
The house is lovely—a four-bedroom Victorian terraced dwelling on Milner Square in Islington. The issue was that I couldn’t afford to maintain it alone—enter Tee and Matt, my housemates.
I’d known Tee for about a year. She and I had bonded—largely over wine and food—and we had become best friends.
Making friends in London was almost impossible for someone like me—a demon hunter and a witch.
And Matt, well, he was so laid-back he was practically horizontal.
He was kind of an ex, but someone I still cared for deeply.
In my humble opinion, when the kiss doesn’t burn you to the core, there’s no point in going the whole way; there had always been something missing… because no kiss had ever come close. I refused to succumb until it was right. Old-fashioned, I guess.
Or perhaps I was just frigid? I tried not to dwell on that one.
Walking into the kitchen, I spotted Matt slurping coffee, sitting with his latest squeeze, Elissa. She was friendly, albeit dippy.
‘Morning, Sephy.’ Matt gave me one of his trademark smiles, dimples and all. He was a good-looking guy, just not my guy.
‘Morning. Where’s Tee?’
‘Dunno?’ Matt shrugged. ‘I’ve made coffee.’ He pointed to the pot.
I lowered my brows as I poured my coffee. Tee worked as a PA for some influential person; she was always evasive about her job, but her hours were pretty sketchy for such a well-paid position.
‘No work today?’ I turned to Matt, grasping my coffee as if it were the answer to life. I took a sip and sighed contentedly. Matt came from a wealthy family, and his jobs typically revolved around bar work. He’d recently been hired at some nightclub.
‘I’m on tonight, yeah,’ he answered as his gaze met Elissa’s.
‘Where are you working now, then?’ I asked, taking a seat.
Matt hesitated before speaking, and I pinned him with a glare. What was his problem?
‘Well,’ he muttered, ‘I’ve been working at The Underworld for the last few weeks.’ His eyes met mine, and his cheeks bloomed pink.
I almost choked as I spat out my coffee and yelled, ‘What the fuck?’
‘Sephy, we all know you hate the gods, but I couldn’t pass it up. It’s great pay and a cracking place to work.’
‘The gods are dicks! They killed thousands of humans.’ And witches, I added mentally. They had banned witchcraft, murdered countless of my brethren, forced us to hide away like a filthy little secret, and still left us vulnerable to death should we be discovered.
‘Sephy, it’s in the past. They rule now, and there’s fuck-all we can do about it.’ Matt raised his voice, then sighed. ‘Look, I’ve got VIP tickets for tonight. Come and see me at work. Let your hair down for once.’
‘Not a chance. I’m not lining the god of the Underworld’s pockets with my hard-earned cash.
I hate them. Hate them all!’ I shrieked as I jumped up.
I grabbed my helmet and bag, and as I stormed out, I gave the door a dramatic slam.
Anger burned deep in my gut, but I wouldn’t allow its darkness to consume me like before.
I hopped onto my Kawasaki Ninja 300 and started her up.
The vibrations of her throaty growl reverberated through me, easing my temper.
I blew out a long breath, then pressed down on the throttle.
I loved plants, and they loved me right back, so in addition to demon hunting—which paid very well—I also worked at Boma Garden Centre a couple of half days a week.
It felt like heaven on earth—a little oasis of petals and foliage, which, right at that moment, was exactly what I needed. Ten minutes later, I was at work.
‘Hi, Sephy,’ Colette called as I walked in.
‘Hey.’ I attempted to smile, but it didn’t quite happen.
‘What’s up?’
I shrugged. ‘Nothing. Don’t worry.’
Colette puckered her brow. ‘Okay, well, Kim wants you in the nurseries again.’
‘No problem.’ I stashed my bag in my locker, then made my way to the perspex tunnels, feeling the cool breeze on my face, laden with the scent of primroses, while taking in the vast array of various flowering plants as I passed.
This was my favourite time of year—spring.
The feel of spring whispered to me on the breeze and lightness filled me; men were jerks, but plants made up for it.
I lost myself in the joy of creating new life and hummed happily as I worked.
I had the ability to make plants grow—any plant…
Grandma said it was my flora magic. The tiniest burst of magic infused each seedling, invigorating their roots and turning wilted foliage green, ensuring they grew into the most incredible array of blooms. Everyone just assumed I had green fingers.
After spending four hours with my plant babies, I decided to visit Kew Gardens, one of my favourite places—a botanical garden housing the world's largest and most diverse mycological collections.
It spans three hundred and thirty glorious acres, and since I only had a couple of hours, I headed for the Waterlily House, a spot brimming with an array of sprawling climbers and tropical plants.
Kew was quiet, and I needed that. I craved the fresh air, the scent of flowers, the greenery, and the water. I wandered towards the Waterlily House, lost in thought.