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Surviving Hell should've earned me a vacation. Instead, I got a drywall job that might actually kill me.
Three weeks ago, I clawed my way out of Perdition Point's Fifth Borough with a shattered magical core, an emotionally lobotomized demon boyfriend, and a fragment of dimensional fabric fused to my soul that no one can explain.
I need rest, time to heal, and a chance to process the fact that what I did down there should have killed me three times over.
Instead, I'm accepting a drywall contract for a creaky Victorian basement. Why? Because I’m broke and the pay is obscene.
It’s supposed to be simple. Hang drywall. Supervise Zane. Collect my paycheck. Prove I'm still functional. But the basement has protection wards carved into the foundation—old ones that make my skin prickle. Then again, half the houses on Saltcliff Island are drenched in weird magic. That's why I moved here.
Turns out those wards are a prison, and I need to learn to trust my instincts implicitly.
The demon locked inside quickly figures out I'm related to the woman who trapped him seventy years ago.
He's powerful. Angry. And draining my already damaged magic the minute I walk through the door. Now he’s getting stronger while my core splinters further...
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