“By all means,” he called out loudly, “join us.”

Whatever had prevented Ruth and Joshua from entering the bridge earlier must have fallen away, because she now moved decisively across its length, to where the demons and I stood. As she came toward us, I could see something shimmer back into place at the entrance of the bridge, like a transparent mirage.

By then, Joshua had regained his strength and stood. But no matter how much he screamed, I couldn’t actually hear him—I could just see his mouth opening and closing as he shouted soundlessly. No matter how hard he threw himself at the entrance, he couldn’t cross onto the bridge.

If Ruth noticed this new development, she didn’t show it as she stopped several feet away from the demons’ formation. Once he was sure she wouldn’t come any closer, Belial flashed his most congenial smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, madam. What can we do for you on this fine evening?”

The other demons snickered at his fake, ingratiating tone. But Ruth kept her face impassive. She tossed back her gleaming white hair and met his gaze squarely.

“You can make a trade with me. For me, actually. I offer myself, so that you will end the war that you’re waging on this girl.”

My mouth dropped open in shock, but the demons seemed vaguely amused by Ruth’s proposal. For the first time since they’d arrived, the female demon stepped out of rank and approached Ruth, smirking.

“What makes you think you’re a sufficient replacement for the girl?”

Ruth returned the smirk and then caught my gaze. I saw something flicker in Ruth’s eyes—apology, I think—before I suddenly couldn’t see anything anymore. A blazing pain tore its way through my head, and I felt my knees buckle. Images blurred through my mind, like a reel of old-fashioned film spinning too fast for me to discern any individual panel. I clutched at my pounding temples and gasped, “Stop. Please!”

And just like that, the images vanished and the pain dissipated.

“A Seer witch,” the female demon whispered, giving Ruth a wary, almost respectful look. The other demons hissed in agreement, clustering closer together in their pack. Obviously, they recognized an act of near exorcism when they saw one.

Ruth didn’t confirm or deny the label. She simply folded her hands in front of her and released an impatient sigh.

“Well?”

Belial studied Ruth harder now, taking in her regal stance, her annoyed frown. “I assume that you’re someone of importance in your coven?” he asked.

She gave him a withering glare. “I’m the leader of two major covens, including the one in New Orleans—the young members of which defeated your kind this winter, I believe.”

I could see Belial bristling, but he didn’t immediately retaliate. Instead, he continued to evaluate Ruth—probably weighing their intended revenge upon me against her worth as a possible addition to his army. If he accepted Ruth’s trade, I didn’t doubt that he would give her a position of some power; a woman with Ruth’s abilities didn’t end up as a mere wraith.

“You do understand,” he said, “that once you join us, you will be unable to work against us; your mind will not be your own.”

Ruth’s answering smile was close-lipped and caustic. “I assumed as much.”

Neither side said anything further until, after some considerable time, Belial nodded decisively. He didn’t consult his fellow demons, which made me wonder whether he had the final say, or they just shared a hive mind. Judging by the similarly determined looks on their faces, I guessed the latter.

“It’s settled then: you die tonight, and the girl goes free.”

Ruth shook her head vehemently. “Not just her. All the people around her, too. Anyone that you might hunt, in order to get to her.”

He considered this additional demand for a moment, and then nodded a second time. “It is agreed upon. The death shall be administered by the wraiths, and then your new form will join us in the netherworld, forever.”

His voice deepened with this pronouncement, booming off the icy girders of the bridge. In response, the temperature seemed to drop, as if the air itself understood that a dark bargain had just been made. The wraiths understood, too: they began to swarm again, writhing and churning about twenty feet above our heads. They were gathering for an attack. A final one.

A shiver crawled its way across my skin, and I turned to Ruth. “You can’t do this,” I pleaded desperately with her. “There’s got to be another way.”

For the first time Ruth offered me a sad, genuine smile. “I don’t think there is.”

She turned slightly and eyed the entrance of the bridge, where Joshua was still clawing at the invisible barrier and screaming his silent screams. When Ruth looked back at me, her eyes shimmered with the only tears I’d ever seen her shed.

“Please,” she begged quietly. “Please watch over them. And when the time is right . . . please leave them and don’t come back.”

“I . . . I’ll try,” I stuttered, unsure of how else to answer her.

Above us, the wraiths began writhing faster and screeching. Any minute now, they would dive. For a wild second, I thought about shielding her with my own body.

But Ruth was no longer looking at me. Staring up at the black swarm, she fumbled frantically with something in her pocket. Finally, as the wraiths began their dive, she yanked her hand out of her pocket. Through the cracks in her bulging fist, I could just make out a few tiny, white discs—pills.

I screamed, “No!” But the shrieking wraiths drowned out the sound of my voice.

It took Ruth several quick swallows, but she’d gulped down all the pills by the time the black mass crashed into her. Just before the wraiths fully engulfed her, she clutched one hand to her chest and fell to her knees with an unexpectedly peaceful smile.

When the wraiths disbanded several minutes later, Ruth lay prone and motionless on the road. Her arms had fallen into a T shape, and her head had lolled to one side so that she faced me. She still wore that enigmatic smile, and her eyes were wide open. But I knew she couldn’t see me. Not anymore.

Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I began gasping for air as the demons laughed and cheered. I hardly even noticed when the colors of the netherworld began to seep away, returning the bridge to a plain, ordinary gray.

Before the darkness disappeared entirely, Belial pointed one finger at me.

“The witch died before we could take her soul. Whether or not she intended this outcome, her soul is already gone, and we cannot claim her,” he hissed as he began to fade from sight. “Therefore her bargain is void, and our mandate still stands: give yourself to us, or in one week, another person dies. And this time, we’ll take him.”

Belial’s arm swung toward Joshua, who’d finally pushed through the vanishing barrier and was now running toward me. Then, with a last malevolent smile, the demon vanished too.

Ruth Mayhew was dead. By her own hand, no less.

No one could seem to accept that fact. Not Joshua, even though he’d witnessed the event, nor Jillian, who’d heard about it immediately after. Not Jeremiah and Rebecca, who arrived at the bridge an hour later. And especially not the officers from the Wilburton police department.

As a few of them mentioned just after the ambulance arrived, most of the officers had known Ruth Mayhew their entire lives. They’d eaten her apple cobbler at Easter picnics; they’d tried not to squirm through a church service, lest she catch them from the choir loft and tell their parents; and they’d suffered through the Sunday-school classes that she’d ruled with an iron fist. The Ruth Mayhew they knew was not the type of woman who would take her own life with an overdose of heart medication; the Ruth Mayhew they knew would never have been that careless.