The Demon’s Queen (A Deal With A Demon)

Azazel finds me in my room barely an hour later. He’s taken the time to shower, which I both appreciate and resent. My emotions make no sense, not even to me, so I do my best to hold them in and wait for him to speak first.

He doesn’t make me wait long. “I need you to sign this.” He pulls a short stack of papers from his jacket and sets them on the table. A pen appears shortly after.

It’s happening. The thing I wanted so desperately for so long. I didn’t expect it to feel so hollow. “Just like that.”

“I gave you my word, Eve.” He keeps his tone carefully distant. As if I truly am just another contract to him. I know it’s a lie, that it’s just to protect himself, but it hurts more than I expect.

I don’t even read the papers before I scrawl my name in the appropriate spot and toss the pen aside. “Are you happy?”

“Are you?”

I refuse to cry, no matter how my throat clenches or my eyes burn. But I can’t meet his gaze either. “I don’t know how to feel, Azazel.” I swallow as best I can. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Brosh never had a chance of beating me,” he says softly. “He doesn’t have the experience or the patience. He was a fool to threaten you, and even more of a fool to come here to challenge me.” He reaches out and brushes my hair back from my face. “But you’re safe, so it was worth the cost.”

I can’t speak. I can’t even think. “What now?”

“Now, I take you home.”

I don’t expect him to mean right this second, but the room swirls around me in a sickening way that I recognize from the night he brought me here. I open my mouth to tell him to wait, to just give me a moment, but everything goes dark before I can utter a single word.

I wake up in darkness . . . except not true darkness. For the first time in months, I hear horns honking and the normal night sounds of the city. My city. I sit up so fast, my head spins. “Azazel!”

There’s no answer. Why would there be? I’m back in my apartment with its cool-blue walls, thick carpet underfoot, and silly little treasures that I can’t help but collect. Alone. I shiver. This space—my space—has never felt so barren before.

A vibrating sound makes me jump halfway out of my skin before I recognize my phone, lit up on my nightstand. Right. We have phones here. I fumble for it, the pressure in my chest loosening a fraction when I see Pope’s name on the screen. “Pope?”

“Where the fuck have you been?” There’s nothing of Pope’s customary smooth tone in the question. In fact, they sound downright haggard. “It’s been days, Eve. I get an SOS call from you, but when my guy gets into the hotel room, there’s no one there. I’ve had my people searching high and low for you. I thought you were dead.” Their voice breaks on the last word.

“I’m sorry.” I press my free hand to my forehead. “It’s, uh, a long story involving some light kidnapping.”

“Light kidnapping.” Their tone goes low and dangerous. “Is he there with you right now?”

“No,” I whisper. “I don’t think I’ll ever see Azazel again.” Somehow, during all the frustration and fury, it never felt real that Azazel would be removed from my life entirely.

I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Pope takes a deep breath, and when they speak again, they sound more like themselves. “I’m on my way. Do I need to bring a doctor with me?”

“No. I’m okay. Shaken up, but otherwise fine.” Except for the gaping hole in my chest where my heart used to be.

Pope doesn’t believe me, and I don’t blame them. When they walk into my apartment an hour later, I can actually see the toll of the last few days. It’s there in their bloodshot dark-brown eyes, in the way their normally lustrous medium-brown skin has gone waxy. Their locs are pulled up away from their face, but even those don’t have as much bounce as I’m used to. Pope walks directly to me and pulls me into a hug that threatens to crush my ribs to dust. “I was so fucking worried about you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

They step back but grip my shoulders, as if they can’t quite believe I’m here. That makes two of us. “Tell me everything.”

And so I do. The truth. Pope watches me closely. There’s no shock, no denial. Just a deep curiosity and investment in the story. Right up until the moment I explain how I got home.

They sit back and shake their head. “He’s a fool.”

“He did what I wanted.”

“Except it’s not what you wanted.” They roll their eyes. “You’ve wanted two things from the moment I’ve met you, Eve. Freedom and to be someone’s first priority. Not too much to ask in the grand scheme of things. All he had to do was talk to you and I’m sure you could have figured something out.” They shake their head. “I’m glad you’re home. I was losing my mind with worry. But it’s clear you’re not staying long.”

I blink. “You’re making a lot of assumptions.”

“Am I?” Pope smiles. “You forget. I know people, and I know you especially.” They reach out and clasp my hand. “I’ll be sad to see you go. Promise to check in periodically and let me know you’re alive.”

The room feels strangely liquid around me in a way that has nothing to do with magic and everything to do with shock. “You’re such an asshole. You couldn’t even give me a few minutes to figure it out on my own.”

“Time is money, baby.” They squeeze my hand and rise, stretching their arms over their head and making something in their spine pop. Their expression goes soft. “Unless you really mean to pick up your life right where you left off as if the last couple months didn’t happen and you aren’t in love with Azazel.”

I grit my teeth even as my chest flutters alarmingly. “I happen to like my life.”

“You were content. Not happy.” They shrug at my shock. “You’re one of my best friends, Eve. I wouldn’t have let you continue with the work if it was hurting you. You enjoyed yourself, but from the moment you started, you were simply killing time.”

“Stop analyzing me,” I snarl. “It’s rude.”

“It’s what I do, and you love me for it.” They slip their phone from the pocket of their tailored pants. “Now, do you want to take a few days for your pride to heal from the mortal wound of my knowing you well enough to predict your next move . . . or do you want to summon your demon lover?”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re taking the idea of demons and other realms too well. You didn’t even ask me if I was on drugs.”

“More things in heaven and earth and all that.” They wave it away. “I move in a lot of strange circles, and some of them are less human than you’d imagine.”

I can’t even process what they’re saying right now. Obviously I’m aware that Lenora came from this realm and she’s a witch with magic of her own so that means there must be other magic here . . . but I didn’t expect it to intersect my life. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

They shrug. “Some things are best kept separate; you never showed any interest in the paranormal. It’s not the sort of thing you bring up in mixed company unless you want to get those wild-eyed looks that I deeply dislike. Little did I know one of your favorite clients was a demon.”

This is all happening too fast . . . and yet not fast enough. It’s so easy to get swept up in Pope’s energy. Sometimes I dig my heels in out of sheer habit, but the truth is that they’re right. I already made my decision.

I inhale deeply and try to think. “I need a lawyer too.”

Pope’s brows wing up. “A lawyer.”

“One specializing in contracts.” The plan snaps into place. I don’t know how to summon a demon, but it can’t be that hard, right? Especially if Pope knows people who are familiar with the concept. “Once I get that ironed out, it’s time to summon Azazel.”

And this time, it truly will be a lifetime contract.