Shit. Shit. Shitting shit.

  I crawled towards my blade as she snaked towards me. I was so going to gut this bitch.

  ‘I would not do that if I were you.’ The voice cut through the air—strange, powerful, and disturbingly familiar. It held the promise of pain.

  We both froze.

  I looked up and saw him. He stood over twenty feet tall, a towering figure forged from shadows, shifting and crackling with restrained violence. I lunged for my blade, then held it up towards both of them as the Lamia backed away, choking on fear. Whatever he was, he wasn’t mortal—and definitely not just another demon. He radiated dominance. Power. He was likely more dangerous than the Lamia.

  I was so screwed.

  The man of shadows turned to me, and I sucked in air. I glimpsed a flash of eyes—eyes of pure gold—and ice lodged in my throat. I recognised those eyes. My mind was hazy… I needed to try to summon my dark magic—but something inside me… froze.

  ‘What mess have you got yourself into?’ His voice was a dangerous purr—silken, sharp, and threaded with judgment. He tutted, almost amused. He was power made flesh, and every instinct I had screamed at me to run.

  I was scared shitless.

  His huge, hulking form took shape in the moonlight, reducing in size but still over six and a half feet, and my heart almost stopped beating. My eyes travelled up, up, and up. He was big. He was also mind-bendingly beautiful. As he gazed at me, his eyes turned cerulean blue with a ring of gold encircling the black pupils, and something flickered in those eyes—something akin to melancholy.

  I felt dizzy and sick. Those eyes… sparked a memory—a memory that was like mist slipping through my fingers. I stared at him like a total creeper, unable to tear my eyes away.

  He possessed a vicious beauty—a sculptured, breathtaking face, hair as black as night tied at the nape of his neck, and a covering of short, dark stubble lined his chiselled jaw. The black shirt stretched across his muscled chest, and his long, ripped legs stood slightly apart. I’d seen nothing as beautiful yet equally chilling.

  A strange tugging in my chest, as if a part of me was drawn to him, sent goosebumps racing over my skin. A ball of dread in my stomach inched up my throat, threatening to suffocate me.

  The pounding of my heart rang in my ears. Maybe you’re having a cardiac event? my befuddled brain said to me.

  ‘Are you alright?’ The demon’s eyes narrowed, studying me with unnerving intensity. His voice struck something inside me—strangely familiar, like a memory brushing just out of reach.

  ‘Mhm,’ I squeaked.

  ‘And you’—he turned back to the Lamia—‘have displeased me… greatly.’

  ‘Your Highness.’ The Lamia trembled, her jaw slack.

  I attempted to summon my magic, the magic I wedged deep within me; I felt it bubbling, and his head whipped around as he squinted at me. ‘Don’t.’ The magic inside me fizzled out—I was so gonna die.

  The stranger raised his arm, and a tattoo lifted from his skin, floating through the air and dropping to the ground. It transformed into a mass—a gigantic mass—of a dog with three heads. My brain seemed to have slowed down completely. It wouldn’t process what was happening.

  ‘Oh my God,’ I croaked.

  ‘Gods.’ A sardonic smile twisted his lips, sending a shudder through me.

  The dog’s heads were almost as tall as I was, and it was brutal. Its fur was the colour of obsidian, and when six blood-red eyes turned my way… I whimpered softly. My heart hammered in my ears, making my head swim with fright, but the three heads cocked to the side as they studied me, and as those crimson eyes left me and swung back to study the Lamia, I swallowed thickly. The Lamia let out a small screech, quivered, and raised her arms in surrender.

  Holy fucktarts.

  I took that as my cue to leave. I struggled to my feet and ran.

  ‘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.

  Once they had retaken control of our world, many of the gods remained reclusive, however, several of them relished the attention and had become icons—bigger than movie stars.

  Stupid humans.

  Hades, although still reserved from the public eye, had opened classy nightclubs in all the world's major cities, while Apollo had invested in live music venues. Dionysus’s exclusive wine bars sold his own wine, rumoured to contain a touch of nectar.

  Aphrodite launched a chain of superstores, obliterating the likes of Ann Summers and Victoria’s Secret: lingerie, sexy clothes, sex toys, and the like. Pretty on point for the freaking goddess of love. The asshole, Zeus, had a massive investment company employing Oracles. Again, they were all located in the world's most prominent cities.

  The gods had promised a fairer world, and much to my chagrin, they had delivered. If you were a law-abiding citizen, life was good. If not, the punishments were pretty archaic and vicious, but no one could question or argue with them. I guessed the answer to life was to be a good person, not an asswipe. The standard of living was higher, and homelessness had become a thing of the past.

  Even thinking about the gods rattled me—I could feel the darkness within, almost pounding against my chest to escape, to destroy. Thanks to Grandma, I’d learned to control that dark magic. I inhaled deeply through my nose to quell my fury and hurried to the little oasis.

  Strolling inside, my thoughts evaporated, and the feeling of bitterness and anger settled. I wandered towards the water, inhaling the mingled scents of the blooms, which felt like a meditation, before sitting on the edge of the circular pond.

  The water, dyed black with harmless food dye, shimmered as the glasshouse ceiling reflected off the surface, and colourful fish zipped through the darkness. The giant Victoria Boliviana water lilies were breathtaking creations, yet the flowers only bloomed for forty-eight hours. I trailed my fingers gently through the water.

  ‘Hello, beautiful,’ I whispered as I touched one of the Victorias. A ripple of water and leaves saw the plant sprout a tall stem, which emerged from beneath. A large white flower peeled open, igniting an inner warmth within me, illuminating my world. I smiled and inhaled the fragrant scent. ‘Clever girl.’

  ‘Cool ability, Sephy.’ A man’s voice caused me to jump up and spin around.

  A blond-haired, tall, muscular guy stood six feet away from me—he had the kind of face that stops you in your tracks… It was a vaguely familiar face. His dark blond hair was knotted atop his head, but his eyes were bizarre—almost violet—though I was sure I saw silver flashing through them. What was going on with insanely gorgeous men and their freaky eyes?

  ‘Who are you?’ I ground out, placing my hands on my hips.

  ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’ His smile transformed his face from stunning to jaw-dropping.

  ‘How do you know my name?’ I snapped, striving not to lose myself in those bewitching eyes. I so didn’t need this. I wanted peace and plants, not stupid hot men.

  ‘I know a great deal about you.’

  Well, that wasn’t weird. ‘Are you stalking me?’

  He laughed—a deep, rumbling, sexy sound—and I gritted my teeth as I glared at him.

  ‘Stay away from me,’ I hissed as I turned and ran. For the second time in two days, I fled from a super-sexy man.

  The story of my life.

  I returned home shaken and edgy.

  ‘Sephy.’ Tee’s husky voice drew my gaze to the doorway leading to the kitchen. Tee is a beauty—her skin the colour of burnished copper, with her long, black hair styled in intricate braids adorned with silver beads. Her eyes are like pools of darkness—their depths seem never-ending.

  ‘Are you okay, girlfriend? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I’ll pour you a wine.’ Tee’s answer to everything is wine or red velvet cake, and often both. I followed her into the kitchen and collapsed into a chair. ‘What happened?’ she asked as she handed me a glass.

  ‘Well, there was another strange guy in Kew Gardens. He recognised me, but I’ve never seen him before. And his eyes…’

  ‘What about his eyes?’

  ‘They were almost violet and seemed to have silver flashes in them. Like, you know… lightning.’ I felt my cheeks heat—Tee probably thought I was doolally-batshit crazy. When my gaze met hers, I was almost certain she blanched. ‘Should I be worried? Do you think he’s stalking me?’

  Tee recovered immediately. ‘Girlfriend, it’s London. London is full of weirdos.’ Before I could say anything else, she put me on the spot. ‘Matt told me about your hissy-fit.’

  I cringed and took a long gulp of wine. ‘I lost my shit. I need to apologise.’