Once the laughter died down, Collector continued. “I can assure you that her demon is very rare. The results of her possession are an anomaly.” Collector turned his gaze to me with pride and wonder, though I felt the annoyance beneath his façade. He didn’t like me one bit, but that didn’t matter. He would happily use me up and bleed me dry. “Spector will hold your hand through the entire process. Our scientists are well equipped to help you learn and wield your new abilities. We understand how important it is to feel in control, and our services include making sure you have a successful hybridization by overseeing your transition and helping you through the process.”
“But you can’t guarantee what demon we get, right?” another person asked.
“No, but if you feel incompatible with your new abilities, we have procedures to reverse the possession. We’re contracted with a priest who can conduct exorcisms, and we have the tools to help suppress your demon desires if they become too much.”
One woman stood and faced me. She had a notepad in hand and was ready to scribble down my answer. “Are you happy with your demon ritual? Do you feel like it was a good decision?”
I scoffed, which made Collector stiffen. I could feel the threatening warning rolling off of him and see the forbidding caution in his stare.
I didn’t care.
“No. I do not like being the Black Widow. Would you?” I asked. I kept it short and bitter. I didn’t want to piss off Collector too much, but also wanted to make my stance known.
“I-I guess not. That would really put a damper on my sex life,” the woman replied cheekily, making the room chuckle.
Collector slid into the conversation with grace and efficiency. “I’d like to remind everyone that the Widow’s possession was rare. We do not anticipate this happening to everyone. Please remember that we included her in this demonstration to illustrate future possibilities, like the mate bond. These projects require donations, and we are excited to explore the endless opportunities associated with that—with the proper funding, of course.”
Spoken like a true politician.
Another hand went up. “How does the ritual work, exactly?” a man asked. Of all of them, he looked the wariest. His face was twisted up in a frown, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t completely sold on what Spector was offering.
Collector gnawed at his lip in annoyance before responding. “I’m so glad you asked, my friend. Allow me to show you.”
The black curtains that had served as a backdrop drifted open, and my eyes widened when I saw what was behind them.
A male, bound in chains with an ethereal glow to them, was sitting on a metal chair. His head was hanging low, and there were a few scientists in white lab coats around him, gathering his blood that dripped slowly from an IV attached to both arms.
He had shaggy blond hair and a full beard that looked like it was there out of neglect rather than choice. He wore faded Spector sweats, and the ragged breaths he took at unnatural intervals let me know how bad off he was. I couldn’t even sense his power the way I could sense Collector and Risk. All that was coming off of the gaunt male was a faint trail of fading life.
My eyes immediately shot over to Risk, who had straightened up from his spot at the wall. His dark eyes were locked onto the captive demon, and flickers of flames were peeking out from his sleeves.
Belvini cut through the murmurs in the room. “As you can see, the ritual requires the blood of a high level demon such as myself. This particular demon has donated his blood twelve times. The average duration for a single demon’s life-span usually ends around the tenth donation,” he explained, making it sound utterly clinical. “Luckily, thanks to our Black Widow, we now have a donor with an unlimited blood supply. We will never run out. As long as demons are spawned in hell, we will have hybrids in our realm.”
I took backward steps off the stage, getting out of the way. Cheryl waved me over, and I quickly took the seat beside hers while listening to Belvini’s speech.
“The ritual requires the blood of a high level demon, an ancient rune circle, and some ceremonial chants. I’ve heard jokes about a virgin sacrifice, but I can assure you we aren’t that uncivilized.”
Some of the crowd laughed at that, but I couldn’t find it within myself to find his words humorous. I was too busy feeling trapped in my memories, sucked into the blinding pain and the terror of hearing the chants during my ritual. What they did was menacing and wrong.
Cheryl snorted. “They’d be hard pressed to find a virgin at Thibault anyways, am I right?” she said while holding up her hand for a high-five. I didn’t return the gesture, making her pout.
“It’s a fairly painless ritual that has a high success rate. We’ve polished our process to ensure a safe, beneficial hybridization for all our participants. We hope that you see the value in Spector and the value in our program.”
Collector flashed an award-winning smile to the crowd, and all around us, supes erupted in applause. I looked at Risk, but he was still staring at the tied up man on stage, his eyes filled with anger. With fists clenched at his sides, he bore a hole in the stage with his gaze.
“We have sign-ups and investment paperwork stationed at tables around the room. Once you’ve made your decision for participation and have transferred your fee, we will get you set up with an information packet and will schedule you for a consultation prior to your possession. The first round will be in three days, and I highly recommend reserving
