I caught her wrist. "No. The last time it came off was at the club, and people died."
"The necklace didn't cause that. The demons attacked because they sensed your true nature starting to emerge." She didn't pull away from my grip. "In here, the wards will contain whatever happens."
"And if they don't?"
"Then we'll have learned something important about your power." She smiled, a predatory expression that made my skin prickle. "Don't worry. I'm very good at handling... unexpected situations."
I released her wrist and stepped back. "Who are you? Really?"
"I told you. My name is Lotus."
"That's not a name, it's a flower. And it doesn't tell me anything about who you are or why I should trust you."
She sighed dramatically. "So suspicious. Fine. My actual name is Amelia Beleth. I'm a Shaman—what you might call a magic user who specializes in dealing with demons and phantoms. I'm also a professor at New Pacifica Shaman College, where I teach first-years how not to get themselves killed."
"There's a college for... shamans?"
"Where did you think people learned to fight demons? YouTube tutorials?" She rolled her eyes. "Yes, there's a college. Two, actually. The other's in Vein City, but their curriculum is outdated."
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to process everything. "And these higher-ups who want me dead. Who are they?"
"The heads of the four great Shaman clans, plus various government officials who oversee supernatural affairs." She shrugged. "Bureaucrats with power, essentially. They fear what they don't understand, and you, Isaiah Angelo, are very much not understood."
"So why aren't you afraid?"
"Who says I'm not?" She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm just better at using my fear productively. Now, about that necklace..."
I took another step back, my hand going protectively to the silver pendant. "Not yet. I want to know more first. If I'm really not human, then what am I? You must have some theory."
Amelia leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. "My best guess? You're a hybrid. Half-human, half-demon. It would explain your healing abilities and why you can see my technique's focal points."
"What are those points, anyway? The hot spots on your body."
"They're where my demonic energy concentrates when I use my technique." She touched her throat, then between her breasts, then her navel. "Most people can't see them, not even other Shamans. The fact that you can suggests you have some innate ability to perceive demonic energy."
I glanced around the room, at the yellow papers with red symbols. "And these... wards? What do they do exactly?"
"They're designed to contain supernatural energy and prevent detection from outside. Right now, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, this room doesn't exist." She pushed off from the wall. "Which means we can take off that necklace without alerting anyone to your presence."
My hand tightened around the pendant. "And if I refuse?"
"Then we stay here until you change your mind." She smiled sweetly. "I have food, water, and a very comfortable chair. How long can you stand being confined in a small space with me?"
The way she said it made my face heat up. Despite the bizarre situation, I couldn't help noticing how attractive she was, with her pink hair and impossible eyes. The glowing points on her body drew my gaze like beacons.
"What happens if I agree? After we take off the necklace and you see... whatever you expect to see?"
"If you're not dangerous, I help you understand what you are and teach you to control your abilities." She stepped closer. "If you are dangerous, well... I contain the threat."
"You mean you kill me."
"Only if necessary." Her voice softened slightly. "I don't think it will be."
I studied her face, looking for deceit. "Why should I trust you?"
"Because I'm currently the only thing standing between you and a death squad of elite Shamans." She reached out and tapped my chest lightly. "And because deep down, you want answers just as much as I do."
She was right about that. All my life, I'd felt different somehow—set apart. The lack of illness, the quick healing of minor injuries, the strange dreams that had plagued me since childhood. Maybe this was why.
"Fine," I said finally. "But you go slowly, and at the first sign of trouble, the necklace goes back on."
Amelia nodded, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Deal." She gestured to the chair I'd been tied to. "You might want to sit down for this. The suppression effect has been in place your entire life. When it lifts... the sensation can be intense."
I sat, gripping the armrests tightly. "Just get it over with."
She moved behind me, her fingers brushing the back of my neck as she located the clasp of the necklace.
"Ready?" she whispered.
"No," I admitted. "But do it anyway."