by L. L. Ash
“Shit, I forgot about that.”
“Don’t. He’d be upset. Six o’clock in the dining room.”
“What would I ever do without you?”
“The maid,” she clipped, heading down the corridor at a trot.
Yeah, she was probably right.
Read Wesley’s story here Revelation: Bloodlust Series Volume 3
Devil’s Cupid
Part I
Chapter I
Cupid
Here I am, sighing again.
I’m too fucking powerful to sit here, sighing of boredom for the millionth day in a row.
I used to be busy. I used to have billions of minions, little boney fuckers with beady eyes. Not the nicest to look at, but they got things done.
Now I’m sitting here on my bloody throne, metaphorical, not literal, unfortunately, and waiting on one of the stupid humans to realize where, exactly, true power comes from.
Call me a demon, a devil, a fallen angel. Call me whatever you’d like. It doesn’t matter to me so long as you call me.
Bloody hell… sitting an eternity on this seat leaves an ass feeling sore and tired. Or, you know, if I wanted to feel pain, it would definitely hurt.
I’m not the big guy, not Lucifer himself, but I’m definitely up there. I’m one of his captains; the devil’s very own version of Cupid.
Any dealings with the mortals regarding love? Yep, that’s my job.
I’m not just a crossroads demon, I’m the crossroads demon, and unlike all my former underlings, I only deal in flesh, and I only arrive for the juiciest, love-related deals.
One desire in exchange for the flesh of the trader. It’s as simple as that.
A pinch inside my neck sizzles.
A deal.
Fog fills the air around me and I am standing at a gravel crossroads. A young man stands there, face pale in the light of a full moon, staring at me where I appeared.
Yeah, I have a thing for dramatic entrances. It kind of comes with the territory.
“Wh-what are you?” the young man stumbles all over himself, falling backward onto the gravel.
Trying not to roll my eyes, I look down at the poor, stupid mortal.
“You should know what I am, boy. You summoned me.”
“But I...I thought this was all bullshit!”
The boy is practically pissing himself.
With a heavy sigh, I zip my hands upward in a plume of smoke until my body morphs and I’m suddenly a woman, five foot nothing, huge rack and pouty lips.
“Better?” I ask him, propping a hand on my hip like a woman might, puckering my lips.
The boy just gulps.
“H-how’d you do that?” he whispers.
“I’m a demon, honey. I can do a lot of things,” is all I say back.
The appearance of my physical form is all up to my own discretion. And obviously the overwhelming presence of my natural form isn’t doing it for him. Maybe this little sex kitten would be a little less intimidating and we’d be able to get to dealing.
He stands, taking a step forward, then freezes all over again.
“I just...I looked it up… I thought this was all bullshit-paranoia and myth...”
Lucifer... I hope this isn’t his normal look. His eyes are far too wide, his jaw hanging open like an idiot.
“Maybe you should start believing what you hear,” I give him a wink, swinging my curvy hips invitingly.
This is degrading, but it’s worth it for the soul.
Gulping again, he brushed the dust off his jeans before blinking rapidly.
“What’s your name, sugar?” I’m asking now, just hoping to get on with this.
The whole ‘oh my Lucifer, I’m so shocked to see an actual devil! Holy hell, what do I do?’ thing is so last eternity. I mean, come on, how many times is a demon supposed to deal with it before it gets entirely tiresome?
“M-Mike,” he answered quietly. “Mike Middleson.”
“What do you want from me?”
This boy better have something to barter for. Or I’ll be fucking mad I had to remove my metaphorically sore ass from my metaphorically bloody throne.
“What do you mean?” he asked back.
“I mean why did you call me? What is it you want to trade for? What is your heart’s fondest desires?”
That quickly his eyes light up and two words pop out from between his little mortal lips.
“Janessa Watts.”
“A woman?” I asked all kitten-like, squishing my new, huge rack together for his benefit.
Of course I already know it’s about a woman, but the poor stupid mortals need some prodding sometimes, like the little sheep they are.
Like the good little mortal he is, he looked at my new breasts, long and hard.
Hm, judging by the miniature tent in his jeans, I’m going to say long and hard is being...generous.
The boy was maybe eighteen, not quite six feet tall and had red pimples all over his pale skin. And seeing Darth Vader on his faded black t-shirt? That told me that he was probably wishing for a woman who was way out of his league.
“I can give you Janessa,” I grin at him, licking my lips.
I could almost taste his soul on my lips, his flesh between my teeth.
“What do I have to do?” he asks back, obviously not as stupid as I gave him credit for.
“Oh, not much,” I swing my full hips, moving toward him until my hand is planted on his weak chest. “I only want one thing. You.”
He gulped again.
“I’m not giving you my soul,” he said, shaking his head vehemently. “I’ve seen all the horror movies. And I’m a ‘Supernatural’ junkie.”
Ah, yes. The TV show.
Damn it.
Think they know everything about demons and angels and mortals.
It’s all a joke.
Except what they got right…
Fuck!
“Ok,” I drawl. “What else can you give me if you won’t part with your soul?”
He sniffles for a moment, looking down at my cleavage until before he startles and meets my eyes.
“I’ll give you my firstborn,” he grins. “How about that?”
Firstborn, huh?
Maybe I could work with that. A nice, pure little soul…
“It’s a deal,” I grip his shirt in my fist.
“Wait! I want to be specific!” he says, putting his hands out in surrender. “I want her to fall in love with me, and marry me!”
“Deal,” I tell him, snapping my fingers until a parchment roll appears. “Now sign.”
He looked at it, simply stating his exact words.
I, Michael Evan Middleson contract in trade, my first born child in return for Janessa Renee Watts to fall in love and marry signer Michael Evan Middleson.
He stands there, reading it for a full minute before looking back up at me.
“Do you have a pen?” he asks, but I just grin and take his hand, biting down on his first finger.
He shrieks, but a large, bead of blood swells on his finger.
“Sign,” I whisper eagerly.
The blood drips off the side of his finger, splashing on the parchment.
Power swells through me like a drug with the feeling of a signed contract.
Lucifer, I need this…
In a puff of smoke me and the contract are gone and he’s just standing there like an idiot in the middle of that dusty gravel road.
Now, to see my new victim.
Chapter II
Cupid
Damn, she is beautiful.
Janessa is a fine figure of mortal existence.
Deep auburn hair and large blue eyes, I wouldn’t mind getting myself a piece of that ass, but she's not mine.
Janessa is asleep, dreaming of nothing as her brain recharges.
Little does she know this is the best time to be with her, to influence her.
In my incorporeal form, I hover above her curvy body, drawing my hand down her
face and hair, nothing but a brush of air to her as she sleeps.
“Janessa,” I whisper into her ear. “Michael Middleson...Michael Middleson...”
For the rest of the hours of her slumber, I whisper his name, whisper every thought of him I want her to have.
I can’t technically make her fall in love with him. I mean, I don’t have fucking arrows and a diaper like that all too familiar Greek cherub. But what I do have is influence, which has always worked for me. Human minds are weak and malleable, and if you spend enough time working them, they will always conform.
A little loophole, or rather a glitch, that the man upstairs made.
All the better for me, though.
Smiling, I watched her rise, her eyes glassy with sleepiness as she undresses and heads to her shower.
Mmm! Those curves and that skin. I bet it feels like velvet… And her large, heavy breasts, tipped in perfect pink nipples, are just aching to be touched.
Well, maybe a little peeking wouldn’t be too bad. I am a demon, after all.
A flutter of wings sounds in my ethereal realm and I turn.
Angel.
Ugh. The cockblocking winged messengers of God.
“You disgust me,” my typical angel says, spreading her wings to block my view of the mortal woman.
“What? I wasn’t touching anything,” I grin at her.
We’ve been doing this dance for...well, ever.
“I may not be able to stop you from whispering your vile words to these humans, but I can protect their modesty from a nasty creature like you. Slinking around where they can’t see you...”
Her face shows anger. Strike that. Rage. Her face shows rage.
“And what’s the harm in watching a mortal shower?” I lift an eyebrow. “Am I going to go to hell?”
She rolls her eyes, wings still spread.
“Slink away, vile creature. Back to the pits of darkness with you,” she practically spits. “I will protect this human from you.”
“Angel, baby, I was just having some harmless fun. No harm, no foul. But if it bothers you so much, you could give me a show instead.”
If I thought she was pissed before, she’s fucking enraged, now.
“Leave!” she booms, her grace spreading in a halo around her body.
It singes a little, but Lucifer, it's worth it.
This Angel has me stirring beneath my robes, as always. Her indignation is both irritating as fuck and such a turn on.
I love watching anger spread a blush down her body, down past that damnable white robe she wears. I bet it pinkens her breasts just like it does her cheeks.
I’ve been trying to imagine what lies under that robe since she first showed up, trying to get between me and my victims some millennia ago.
Charm doesn’t work, pissing her off doesn’t work. Nothing fucking works. So, now I just tease her instead, having given up trying to get her under me forever ago. Not that her spiritual body could actually take mine in, anyway. But if I can't have her body, I want everything else.
“Alright, I’ll go for now. Maybe I’ll catch her change before she goes to bed tonight.”
Winking at Angel, I wisp away into nothing, back to my realm as I wait for dark in the human world so I could repeat my whisperings until I made my deal happen.
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Other Reads By L. L. Ash
Minutemen Series
Boyfriend By The Hour
Rock God Series
Phoenix
Crash
Fret
Harrison Series
Paradise City
Welcome To The Jungle
Estranged
Devil’s Cupid
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Box Set Parts I-V
Bloodlust Series
Exposure
Immersion
Revelation
Standalone Novels
For The Money
Heart Ink
HIM.
Novellas and Short Stories
Hitchhike
The Horror Of Our Love
About the Author
L.L. Ash is a Washington-born writer who has traveled and lived across the western coast of the US.
Ash has been writing fiction since she was a pre-teen, and while her writing has improved since then, her love for literature has not changed. Oftentimes you can find Ash reading an indie romance or enjoying a historical fiction. Dabbling in culinary arts and music, Ash has been an artist for decades but found her true love and passion in romances.
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