The ride to hell was a silent one.

For purging a creature born from sin, I—along with my boyfriend, Lucas—sat in the back of a police car on our way to the station for questioning. What more could be asked was beyond me; everything was recorded for the world to see.

I fought a demon and won.

“Ali,” Lucas began, unable to brush back his platinum-blond hair from his blue eyes due to being handcuffed, “no matter what happens, I’m here, okay? I’m staying by your side.”

“Same,” I replied.

The car stopped at an unexpected, unknown location. Out the barred window was a cabin made of steel encircled by thick trees that darkened the blue sky. The smell of the earth seeped into the vehicle as we watched men in black suits walk out of the structure onto the woodlands.

Yeah, definitely not a police station.

“Where are we?” Lucas voiced our thoughts as we inspected the grassy surroundings with limited view. “Sir, what’s going on?”

The officer stepped out of the vehicle and opened the back seat, giving us freedom to go from one prison to another as the suited men caged us with their presence. Two of them pushed us toward the entrance of the cabin, my arm squeezed by a firm grip that only tightened once the door opened.

As if these damn cuffs weren’t enough.

Inside was a space made up of luxurious décor, ranging from leather sofas and a wall-mounted wine cabinet behind a bar counter, to a glass-enclosed fireplace and an antler chandelier illuminating the home with rustic lighting. The place would’ve passed the vibe check with ease had I not sensed a staggering surge of negativity coming from somewhere deeper inside.

“There’s a demon in here,” I whispered to Lucas.

From out the back room came a tall man with a gray goatee, his black hair standing high in a pompadour style that almost stood out more than his broad shoulders in his white blazer. “Welcome.” His light tone couldn’t subtract from his deep, intimidating voice. “My name is Lysander Goodwin, chairman of Obsidian.”

“What do you want with us?” Lucas questioned Lysander, gritting his teeth from the tightened grip of the suited man holding him in place.

Lysander sauntered to the bar section and poured him a glass of wine before speaking. “First, I would like to apologize for this sudden arrangement between us, but humanity is in a dire situation when it comes to demons. More specifically, Shadows.”

How does he know about Shadows? Obsidian didn’t believe in—

“No, it was Alvin Steinberg who didn’t believe in demons,” he said so suddenly. “All of Obsidian are well aware of their existence and their ability to corrupt manifested desires.”

Well, that answered my question somewhat, but did he just read my—

“Yes, I read your mind. I know all of your thoughts and narratives because I—like you—am a Dreamer.”

Great, another madman in power to deal with. Somehow, though, this one felt more dangerous than the last.

He took a sip of his wine before continuing. “With that said, Aliyah Dawn, we have more in common as well. We’re both Dreamers without Shadows, meaning our positive beliefs outweigh our negative intrusions, am I right?”

I didn’t answer. Not like I needed to with his ridiculous mind-reading ability. Talk about intrusions.

“Another thing we share is the desire to save people from demons and themselves, so I’ll come out and say it: I want you to join Obsidian.”

I scoffed. “And why would I do that? Don’t you have enough manpower?”

“Well, for one, you’d have access to help Dreamers from all boroughs of New York City, not just the Bronx. And while I do have my own force of capable Dreamers, I need more who are close to your age.”

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Creepy.

“What does her age have to do with anything?” Lucas asked.

Lysander took another sip of his wine before walking over to me and Lucas. “At the risk of sounding comical, you teenagers are our only hope. You see, those your age have the highest levels of aspiration, even in this current world of extreme depression. Thus, your abilities are more amplified than say, someone in their thirties or older. Actually, take me for example. While I may be able to read minds, I can only do so by direct eye contact with the other individual. There are more drawbacks and weaknesses for Dreamers my age as opposed to yours, which is why I need a squad of Dreamers consisting of you and your friends.”

Please. This man clearly didn’t know my friends if he thought they’d even consider helping him. Janet hates Obsidian for killing her parents, and Robyn isn’t exactly a friend of mine. Hell, she’s no one’s friend and would probably slaughter the entire organization.

“Okay,” I began, yanking my arm forward in hopes of loosening the grip of the suited man holding onto me, “and if I refuse?”

“That wouldn’t be good for either of us.” Of course the friendly tone left his voice at this point. “You possess incomprehensible capabilities that could pose a threat to humanity—capabilities that you’ve already exposed to the world. Right now, you’re nothing more than a detriment to your family and friends, who will face public scrutiny as the ones who are close to The Witch.”

My mind immediately shot to the worse possible conclusion. Lysander confirmed my dreadful suspension.

“The video of you combating a demon has been viewed over two million times in less than three hours. The Witch is on course to become the number one trend in the world—a nicknamed dubbed for you, Aliyah Dawn. I don’t think you fully understand the position you’ve put us in. It is Obsidian’s sworn duty to not only protect humanity from demons, but to veil their entire existence from society. You have jeopardized our mission, and so, you will be placed under solitary confinement for the rest of your life; unless you work for us.”

I hated this. All of it. But what other choice did I have?

“Now, before you answer,” Lysander started, walking back to the wine bar, “I would like to provide a demonstration of what will happen when we work together.” He raised his glass and shouted, “Bring out our drunken friend.”

Women in black suits dragged a guy from out the back room who reeked of alcohol. His dirty clothes and frightened expression made me assume he was just a hobo caught up in all this mess, but something sinister came out with him: the demon I sensed earlier. It was the guy's Shadow, a creature with the power to corrupt his manifested desire.

Lysander’s nose wrinkled in disgust as he explained, “This man is a homeless alcoholic. His only desire in life is to drown himself in the same waters that cost him his job, family, and fiancée. This toxic obsession has given him the ability to manifest any alcoholic beverage of his choosing.” The happy tone returned when he said, “How do you think I collected so many fine wines?” he laughed out. Chuckles from the suited soldiers followed after. “Though we’ve all enjoyed his power, it is time to free this man of his sins. Don’t you agree, Aliyah?”

I could feel my face contorting in anger at every word of his. “You’re sick. All of you.”

Lucas turned to me. “Do it, Ali. Help the guy before it’s too late.” His voice assertive and melancholic.

Lysander sat his glass down on the bar counter and approached the grounded guy, unknowingly standing a few inches away from the Shadow as only Robyn and I had the ability to see them. “Let her go,” he ordered the suited man holding me in place. “Let us witness her saving grace.”

The guy lifted his head off the ground to look up, only to have his vision blackened by my palm on his face. His eyes were blinded further upon the flash of light released from my hand that purged the Shadow and caused the guy to lose consciousness. It wasn’t long before the radiance faded.

I stepped back and acknowledged their fascination of my ability. Lysander clapped and said, “Wonderful. Now, Obsidian will do their part when he wakes up, and that is admitting him into the best rehabilitation center in the state, free of charge. Can you see it now, Aliyah? See that you belong in Obsidian? We cannot destroy Shadows without you, and you cannot prevent people from being corrupted again without us. But together, we can combine our actions and resources to guarantee a healthy, stable world.”

“And how exactly do you know about Shadows?” I inquired. “You haven’t seen them or any kind of demon except for the one in the video from a few hours ago.”

He grinned. “As I said, we have resources. Resources that include captured members of a cult known as the Black Mask. They, as well as a particular member of Obsidian around your age who I hope you’ll be acquainted with soon, have provided all of the information necessary to generate a factual report on these creatures.”

Ugh. This guy had a perfect response for everything.

“What about my boyfriend?” I asked, causing his stare to shift to Lucas. “Will Lucas be free to live his life? He doesn’t have a Shadow, and he only knows about the demons because I told him about them. He has no reason to be involved.”

“Though he will be monitored, Lucas Stewart is free to live his life as he pleases as long as you join us.” He huffed and approached me, towering with a glare. “Now, enough questions. I only have time for one more, and that is reserved for me to ask: will you join Obsidian?”

This man and his weak illusion of choice. Seriously, there was only one option from the very beginning; I had to choose it without hesitation.

“Yes. Asshole.”