If you’ve heard of me, it’s because of the Circle Murders. My name is Lire Devon. That’s ‘lear,’ like Shakespeare’s king, okay? It’s French. It means ‘read.’

Because, that’s what I do. I read things.

Since I was three, that’s how other people have seen me, how they’ve defined me—even my own family. I have a gift, or so they say—one that makes my life complicated. I’m a clairvoyant.

Or, at least … I was.

Everything changed a little more than a month ago when the Chiliquitham Police Department asked me for help. It started harmlessly enough. After all, I use my magic every day. It’s my job. In the case of the Circle Murders, though, it was personal. Anger made me foolish … and reckless. I touched the victims’ bones. I know—stupid. There’s a reason it isn’t done. And, boy, I sure paid the price.

A demon tasted my blood for one thing. Now it invades my dreams, assaulting and enticing in equal measure with its cruel beauty and predatory lust. But Paimon isn’t seeking torment. While it speaks with the voice of subterfuge and innuendo, its message is one of urgent warning.

Your life and the lives of countless humans may depend upon what I have sought to give you. I will not have you defenseless.

Something vast and terrible is coming …

… and I might be the only thing that stands in its way.