The Demon's Bargain (A Deal With a Demon #4)(9)

Shock. Wide eyes and lips parted. “Excuse me?”

“Seven years of pleasure.” I don’t touch her. I told her I wouldn’t, but I didn’t expect it to be this challenging to control the urge to grab her hips and bring her flush to my body. “This doesn’t have to be a deal where anyone loses. I want you. I think you want me, too.”

The bright pink of lust starts to eat away at the edges of her anger. “You can’t be serious. Bargainer demons are making sex pacts?”

“No, of course not.” If one tried, Azazel would skin them alive. “The terms of the deal are that you would come to my realm for the duration of seven years and be under my protection. No one would force you to do anything, and no harm would come to you.”

“Uh-huh.” Amusement creeps in, but lust still holds dominant. “Isn’t that a bit of a conflict of interest? If the deal is to protect me, then who’s going to protect me from you?”

A fair question. It’s a nonissue, but I don’t expect her to believe that. “The contract is sacred. Its magic will ensure you’re not harmed in any way.”

“Sure it will.” Lenora laughs. It’s a wicked sound, filled with barbs and sharp edges. I like it. A lot. “And I’m supposed to believe a few hours in my presence is enough to make you want to give me seven years of pleasure. Please. I realize it doesn’t look that way with this situation with Kristoff, but I’m not a fool.”

“I never said you were a fool.”

“Not in so many words, but you’re saying it nonetheless.”

“Look over the contract, little witch. What harm can it bring?”

She flicks her hair over her shoulder, sending up a thread of something earthy that must be her shampoo. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” She shakes her head. “Regardless, I have a room and you don’t. It doesn’t matter if you have money tucked away because these rooms book up years in advance. So are you going to behave and stay in my room, or shall I leave you to haunt the market while I take a nap?”

As if there’s even the slightest question. “I’ll behave.” I grin. “Until you ask me not to.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She snorts. “Come up. I’ll read your contract.”

As I follow her through the door and into the charmingly magicked front room of the inn, I can’t help wondering what Lenora’s motivation is in this. She says I’m the poisoned ace up her sleeve, but if that’s the case, why not make it a sure thing and bargain with me? She’s failed three times to kill Kristoff. She’s formidable, but I don’t see her succeeding in future attempts, either.

Then there’s her fear.

What is this amulet to her? That’s the one question I haven’t been able to answer in the process of circling my witch. I thought it as simple as a family heirloom, but if that were the case, Kristoff wouldn’t be parading it around. Others wouldn’t recognize it on sight.

Lenora chats briefly with the old witch at the front desk and then lifts her voice. “Come, demon.” As I approach, she laughs. “As you can see, they’re perfectly well-behaved.”

The witch looks me over, and I can see her clearly through the swirl of pink and deep yellow. “I certainly hope not. It seems a waste of a good bargainer demon to be well-behaved.”

“Um.”

The witch waves in the direction of the stairs. “We have brownies on staff, so don’t think about stealing. They take tips in sweets.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Lenora says faintly.

“See that you do.”

It doesn’t take long to find Lenora’s room. Our room. The thought pleases me far more than it should. To distract myself and stay on topic, I shut the door and lean against it. “What’s so special about this amulet, Lenora?”

She freezes, fear once again taking hold. I hate that she’s afraid. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me. If I’m your secret last-ditch effort, then I need to have all the information. There’s something I need to know about the amulet, isn’t there?”

“Fine,” she snaps. “It’s celestial made. Anyone who wears it can’t be killed by poison or magic. There’s a decent chance they also can’t be harmed by violence, but that’s never been conclusively proven. It’s why Kristoff’s managed to dodge my attempts so far.”

She’s not telling the whole truth. I knew there was a protection spell in the amulet—it seems to be common knowledge. “What else?”

“That’s it.” Her magic snaps against mine. “No one else would have dared steal it, but I was foolish enough to fall asleep next to Kristoff, and that’s exactly what he did.”

That same strange jealousy that arose with Jack’s presence takes root and dives deep. I clench my fists, wanting nothing more than to rip this bastard’s head off for abusing my witch’s trust. It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense.

I’ve loved and lost and all that; one doesn’t move through the world without touching others and making impressions made in return. I’ve never been territorial. Except it’s not entirely territorial—that would make a bit of sense. I’m jealous of how familiar Jack was, yes, but I’m infuriated by how Kristoff has harmed Lenora.