Kris Starr used to be famous. Rock and roll. Sold-out shows. Literal magic. Empathic talents and screaming fans. But he has a problem or two. He's having a hard time writing new music. It’s Midwinter, which means he’s surrounded by depressing holiday cheer. And he's in love with Justin, his manager, who has a talent for rescuing almost- or once-famous bands ... and who’s hiding secrets of his own. Justin Moore, on the other hand, is very good at keeping those secrets -- he's had to be for years. One secret involves a demonic inheritance that would make him a target of suspicion. Another involves his past. And the third involves Justin’s feelings for Kris Starr, rock and roll icon and now his client ... and a powerful empath of his own.

A Demon for Midwinter

“It won’t hurt,” Justin said softly. His hand lay over bared skin. “But you’ll feel it.”


“So will you,” Kris said, equally soft. He touched Justin’s fingers, reaching across with his other hand: guitar-calluses and his heart.


Justin swallowed, nodded, and let heat bloom under his fingertips, across Kris’s forearm: twinkling vermilion connection drawn up into being. Swirls of fingerprints, unique as the boy creating them.


If it did hurt at all, the hurt lay only in the surety of the moment: so pure and clear and splendid that the world might shatter if tapped, built of ruby wings and immanence.


Kris touched one of the marks after. Tugged it in a small circle, in place. “You said you can feel it ifI play with it.”


“Not like—like—I don’t even know! It’s like getting my attention, I said. Tapping my arm. It’s not a corresponding spot exactly. No, I don’t know what it’d do if I did it to your—”


Chapter 84