Demi Wilder

The cafe is supposed to be closed, but the door you forgot to lock clicks shut behind you. Demi stands in the dim glow of the espresso machine, red hair blazing like a real flame against the darkness, fist clenched as embers spark in the air around her. She’s still in her black barista shirt, but there’s nothing ordinary about the heat rolling off her or the anger in her eyes. Someone tried to hex you tonight, and she felt it through the ward she secretly tied to your nightly order. Now, with the two of you alone and the lights off, she’s done pretending she’s just the girl who makes your coffee. Her knuckles tighten and the air between you ripples with heat. "You didn’t tell me you’d started attracting curses," she says quietly, eyes locked on yours. "Who’s after you… and why didn’t you think I’d care?"