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

“The castle is fucking with her. It has been for days.”

I press my fingers to my eyes and spend a fruitless moment wishing circumstances were anything but what they are. “The castle fucks with everyone.” It’s not, strictly speaking, the truth. I’m not in the mood for the truth. Just like I’m not in the mood to have what promises to be an uncomfortable conversation. “Leave it alone, Ramanu.”

Ramanu saunters over and perches a hip on my desk. “When were you going to tell me that you signed a lifetime contract with her?”

I should feel comfort that Eve is speaking to someone at all, even if that someone isn’t me. Instead, jealousy sinks bloody thorns into me. I want Eve to talk to me the way she used to. I’m truly a fool, because I want the connection we shared to be real. It’s obviously not on her end; it never was. Even if she’d held some small fondness for me, I annihilated the chance of that growing into more when I brought her here. “I’m not in the mood to entertain this conversation.”

“Azazel.” Ramanu’s tone is uncharacteristically serious. “If there’s danger that stretches beyond the human realm, I should be apprised of it.”

I’m not fucking sure it extends past the human realm. Every step I’ve made has ensured that my enemies will find no traction in the other territories here. But mine? There’s plenty of bargainers who would rather go back to the way things were when Caesarea ruled. When we took what we wanted and damned all the rest. When we didn’t share power. “Brosh has graduated from posturing to actual threats. I have it on good authority that he was in New York, and there’s only one reason for him to be there.”

They sigh. “You should have told me. I’m entertaining, and a delightful asshole, but I’m good at my job.”

It’s true. They’re the one who will be checking in on the other humans in the various territories over the next seven years. They’re the only one I trust to hold the other leaders to the same standards I would. “Do you have everything lined up for the Shadow Market?” As much help as it is to have Ramanu here, I can’t keep them from this particular trip.

“Of course. She’ll summon me before the event, without a doubt. She’s so desperate, I can taste it across the realms.”

A witch will be a valued addition to the territory, which is to say nothing of the fact that Ramanu clearly has a soft spot for her. “Just be careful.”

They grin. “Darling, I’m never careful.”

I stand slowly and stretch. I’ve been at my desk for most of the day, and my back feels like it’s compressed into an unfortunate curve. “Try to act against type for once.” Something in my spine pops. “And good luck with your murderous witch.”

Their grin widens. “I don’t need luck. She’s all but mine.” They start to turn away. “It’s been days, Azazel. You should stop avoiding your human. She’s furious and determined enough to try to descend the side of the tower if left to her own devices for too long.”

“I already asked the castle to lead her to dinner tonight. I’ll take care of it.”

Ramanu is still for several long seconds. Finally, they shrug. “It’s your funeral. I’ll let the kitchen staff know to expect a mess.”

“You are such a pain in the ass.”

“Want to fire me?” They laugh. “Oh wait, I’m the best at this job, and part of said job is telling you things you don’t want to—but need to—hear.”

I wave that away. “Go.”

“Consider me gone.” They pause. “I know you’re trying to go easy on her, Azazel, but I think she may surprise you if you’re just honest with her.”

I don’t answer. What is there to say? No amount of honesty will detract from the lies that brought us to this place. My lies. “I’ll talk to her.”

Ramanu snorts. “Good luck.”

I wait a bare five minutes after they leave to make my way to my bedroom. The castle isn’t particularly pleased with me either; it takes me three times as long to reach my destination. I pause outside my door. “I’m working on it. I’m sorry.” There’s no response, but why would there be?

Within an hour, I’m in the formal dining room, staring down at two places set. There’s no reason for my stomach to be tying itself in knots. I’ve dealt with so many stressful meetings with greater potential consequences and never once let something as mundane as nerves affect me.

But the personal stakes have never felt higher.

I hear Eve’s footsteps before I see her, angry heels clicking on the stone floor. Seconds later, she walks through the doorway looking like a fucking dream. She’s wearing a red dress that ties around her neck; the V shows off her generous breasts, making it seem like one wrong move will free them entirely. It’s also short—shorter than anything I’ve seen her wear, barely covering the lower curve of her ass and also showcasing her thick thighs and gently curved calves. Tall heels complete the image.

Her blond hair is loose around her shoulders, styled in waves I want to sink my claws into. Her lips are the same brilliant red as her dress, and her eyes are smokey . . . and furious.

She stops just inside the door and takes me in with a long sweep of her gaze. She crosses to the table and grabs the bottle of wine sitting there. “I was wondering about something. You speak English here. That seems odd.”

Guilt pricks me, but there’s no point in avoiding this. It will just be worse in the end. “We don’t.” When she pauses, I force myself to continue. “While you were unconscious, I put a translation spell on you.”

“Put a translation spell on me.”

I swallow hard. “I tattooed it. It’s on the back of your neck.”

Her eyes flash. “I see.” She pours the wine into her glass, filling it nearly to the brim. “I want to go home.”

“That’s not possible.”

She drains half the glass in a single gulp and refills it. “Then I want to know why. You owe me the truth, don’t you think? You lied and manipulated and had me sign a contract under false pretenses that took me away from my life, my friends, my fucking realm, apparently. The very least you can do is tell me why.”

She’s right. I know she’s right. But telling her the truth is going to make things worse. There’s no other option. I watch her lift the wineglass to her ruby lips. “Slow down.”

“I don’t think I will.”

Guilt pricks me, sharp and condemning. “You have a one-drink rule.”

“That was for clients, a group that you no longer belong to. I think you’ll find that, if I can’t control anything else in my life right now, I can control this.” She holds my gaze as she takes another long drink. It’s from one of the cases we imported from the human realm rather than the faerie wine we brew here in this realm, so at least she’s not falling-down drunk after a single glass. Even so, I have no idea how often Eve drank or what her tolerance is. So much in so little time is worrisome.

“Eve.”

“Answer the fucking question!”

I lower the hand I was lifting to grab the wine bottle. “You’re in danger.”

“Danger.” She sneers. “Do better. More details. I know how well you like to talk, Azazel. So talk.”

“Time moves differently in this realm than it does in yours.” I hold up my hand again, this time to forestall more angry words. “I’m answering your question. This context is necessary.”

She pulls out her chair and sinks into it, crossing one leg over the other. “Get to the point.”

“The point is that I’ve been leader of this territory for five years. My predecessor had a markedly different way of doing things; her priority was to gain humans, which resulted in gaining power for our territory. It didn’t matter how bargains were made, only that they were. I put a stop to that when I took over.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “Until me.”

Guilt stabs deeper, but I muscle past it. “There are those among my people who aren’t happy with the changes. They think I weakened us, that I’m making the other territories strong at the expense of our own. Caesarea is gone, but many of her supporters remain.” I take a breath. “The primary threat is Brosh. He’s always been vocal in his criticism of me, but he’s decided to take action.”

She blinks. “What does that have to do with me?” Before I have a chance to respond, she makes the leap. “It’s because you’ve been one of my clients. A regular. This Brosh decided to get to you through me.”

It feels like I’m being suffocated. Fuck, I didn’t want to tell her like this. I didn’t want to tell her at all. “Yes. The moment I learned he was in New York, I went to you. To protect you.”

“How does the time difference work with—” She shakes her head. “You know what, I don’t care.”

“You’re safe here, Eve. No one gets into this castle without my permission.”

“I wouldn’t need to be safe if you hadn’t been playing human for years with me.” She glares. “Tell him I mean nothing to you. Tell him it was just business and getting your rocks off. Tell him it’s all bullshit.”

I can’t. “It would be a lie.”

“It would be a lie,” she echoes. “Don’t tell me you fell for your own bullshit. Hooker with a heart of gold, right? That’s the fairy tale. That it’s not a job for me, that I really care about you, that I never once faked it. But you were a damned client and that is my job.”

Each word lashes me. “It doesn’t matter if I’m a job to you, Eve. He knows me well enough to know that I care about you, so he’ll hurt you to punish me. No matter what you feel for me—or don’t—you don’t deserve to be hurt.”

She holds my gaze. “Style yourself my savior in your head, but did you stop to wonder if lying to me, taking me away from everything I’ve ever known . . . might hurt me too?”

I knew it would. I chose to do it anyway. “Better you be hurt and alive than hurt and dead.”

She shakes her head and plants her hands on the table, then propels herself to her feet. “You’re lying.”

Now it’s my turn to blink. “Excuse me?”

“It may be true that Brosh wants me dead, but it’s not the full truth, is it?” She drains her wine and sets the glass down on the table. “If you were such a good leader, such a selfless person, then you would have given me a short contract to keep me safe until you had dealt with the situation. Then you would have sent me home.” She stands and moves around the table to lean against it, bare inches from me. “But you didn’t do that, did you?”

I don’t know where to look. Her breasts are so close to my face. The angle of her body makes her dress ride up to truly indecent heights. Her expression is downright dangerous. I push my chair back a little, just to give myself space to think. “Brosh isn’t the only threat, just the most present one. Now that my feelings for you are out in the open, the threats won’t stop coming.”

“Liar.” She kicks my legs wide; I’m shocked enough to let her. Eve steps between my thighs and plants her hands on my chest. “You saw an opportunity and you took it.” She slides her hands down my stomach and hooks the bottom of my shirt, then reverses direction and lifts it. “You wanted me forever, didn’t you?”

Of course I did. How could I not? I jerk my gaze to her furious eyes. “I may have lied to you before, but I won’t in the future. Not again. I promise.”

“Whatever you say.” She leans forward but has to practically crawl into my lap to reach the sensitive spot beneath my ear. “Well, I’m here. Take me.”

I freeze. “Stop that.”

But she doesn’t stop. She straddles my hips, revealing a tiny slice of red fabric covering her pussy. It’s so thin, I can see her slit through it. My cock jumps. I can’t help it. I grab her hips. “Eve.”

“Tell me your safe word, Azazel.” The snap in her voice makes my cock even harder. My sexual tastes are varied, but Eve fits them all. She always has. She grabs my chin and forces me to meet her furious dark eyes. “Now.”

“Apple,” I grit out.

“Do you want to use it, Daddy?” She doesn’t move her body, but her nails prick my skin.

I know what the right answer is. Speak the word and put a stop to her doing this for all the wrong reasons. The problem is that I can’t find the breath to speak at all. I’ve seen her unwound and messy and orgasming, but this feels like the first time I’ve seen all Eve, not the bits she allows through the shield of Ginger.

Eve narrows her eyes and drags her gaze over my features. “If you won’t say it, then answer a question, Daddy: Do you want me to stop?”

It turns out I do have the breath for words. “Why call me that?” I never would have said it’s a particular kink of mine, but on Eve’s lips?

“You have me grounded here. I can’t leave. You control every element of my life now. Who does that if not a Daddy?” She drags her thumb over my bottom lip. “It makes me want to put you in your place the only way I can. And you like it. I can feel that you do.”

I do like it. Entirely too much. I swallow hard. “You’ll hate me.” Each word fights against her grip on my chin.

“I already hate you, Daddy.” She finally moves, rolling her hips to grind herself over my hard cock. The weight of her, the friction against me, not through the shield of a glamor, is nearly enough to have me coming right here and now. But as soon as she starts, she stops. “So be it.” She starts to rise.

I tighten my grip on her hips and slam her back down onto me. “I don’t want you to stop. Even if you hate me.”