The Demon's Bargain (A Deal With a Demon #4)(5)
I wrap my fingers around their wrists to keep from reaching for their horns again. To see if they’re bluffing or really intend to…I’m not sure what. Plenty of humans have fucked demons, vampires, and a variety of other paranormal beings who are significantly less humanoid. If it’s even close to anatomically possible, some human has tried. That kind of thing might not be as common as it used to be, not with it being all but impossible to cross between the realms, but people got stranded on either side of the barriers when they went up.
It doesn’t matter. Having sex with this demon is a mistake. I have places to be, a witch to murder, and my family’s magic to safeguard. “Get your hands off me.”
“This time.”
I don’t like the thrill of heat that goes through me in response to the dark promise of their words. No, Lenora. Bad witch. I hop off the table when they step back, and I brush my hands over my dress. I chose it carefully, just like I chose all my clothing for the Shadow Market carefully. One must make an impression, after all.
This dress would do Elvira proud. It’s black, and the front is a deep V that barely contains my breasts. There’s a slit up each side that flashes my over-the-knee boots and a whole lot of thigh when I walk—and makes it easier to walk, fight, or…well, fuck.
I glance at Ramanu, only to find them looking at me again. Looking isn’t the right word. They might not have eyes in the traditional sense of the word, but they can see me. I’m certain of it. Right now, their face is tilted as if staring at my chest. I have the most foolhardy desire to run my fingers down the fabric of my dress and tug it aside. Just to see what they’d do. “Eyes are up here, demon.”
“You cut a fine figure, little witch.”
I refuse to blush with pleasure at the compliment. Refuse.
Instead, I turn my attention to how we’re going to get into the Shadow Market. Every year, some entrances stay the same and some shift. There aren’t any stationary ones close to me, so I pull out my compact mirror and draw my finger over it in a finding spell. This small magic doesn’t require blood, but I used up enough summoning Ramanu that it leaves me a little dizzy.
The image shifts, morphing into a map from a bird’s-eye view. A bright yellow line courses from our current location to one several blocks away. I snort. “It would be a haunted house.”
Night has long since fallen. I glance at Ramanu. “If anyone asks, you’re just really into costumes and cosplay.”
They shrug. “If you’re sure. I could also…” They shimmer, and a tall person stands in their place with long blond hair, a square jaw that looks like I could break my fist on, and… I blink and realize I know that face. It graced the cover of many of the old romance novels my gran kept stashed in the attic.
I shake my head. “Absolutely not. Please tell me you don’t wear that form out.”
“It creates quite the reaction.”
“I’ll just bet it does,” I mutter.
“My other go-to is actually my favorite.” They shimmer again, and I’m looking into the face of a slightly taller version of a blond who was very famous back in the day for running down the beach in slow motion. They grin. “What do you think?”
I think if they leave the house wearing that illusion, they’ll cause a riot. I swallow hard. “Your normal form is fine. It’s Halloween, after all.” I stalk for the stairs. “Keep up.”
They drop the illusion and shadow me up the stairs. I catch them peering about as I duck into the closet and grab a pointed hat. Ramanu laughs when I set it on my head. “And you have the audacity to criticize my disguises? Taking yourself a bit seriously, aren’t you?”
“It’s my costume.” I scoop my bag off the floor and toss it over my shoulder. It’s heavy as fuck, but I don’t have portal magic. There’s plenty to buy at the Shadow Market if I forget anything, but like most witches I know, I prefer to use my own tools whenever possible. “Let’s go.”
I only moved into this house a few months ago, so I’m strangely pleased to see trick-or-treaters crowding the sidewalks. I’m an only child, and I have no desire to birth children of my own, but one of my exes has two kids I adore. We broke up because she wanted me to put away the darker magics and didn’t understand they're built into my framework, but Olivia and I are still on a mostly good terms even though she’s dating someone who’s just as sweet as she is. I get to see the kids sometimes. I wonder if they’re out tonight before they attend the market. Surely they’re not too old to play pretend? I honestly can’t remember their ages. The realization leaves me a bit hollow.
I wasn’t sure I even wanted to date someone with kids, and now I find myself missing them?
How strange.
“Thinking dark thoughts.”
I jerk my gaze to Ramanu and realize I stopped on the walkway between my house and the street. Some of the children stop to stare at the demon, but the adults with their group hurry them along, shooting us looks ranging from admiring to disapproving.
No, not us. Me.
I look down at my far-too-sexy-for-trick-or-treating dress and laugh a little. “Just the ghosts of the past. It’s nothing.” Olivia is happy now with her cute little midwife who bakes bread on the weekends. It’s a better match than we ever were. I’m happy for them. Truly.