The Demon Duke and I

by Marian Tee

  George tried not to roll her eyes. So that was what the kick to the bucket was for, she thought, pushing herself off her knees. By the time she got to her feet, Lady Beyotch had swept in, her overpowering perfume making George’s nose wrinkle.

  “What is all this commotion about?”

  Desire had also gotten to her feet, curtsying. “Milady---”

  “I am not talking to you,” Beryl snapped.

  George gritted her teeth as Desire simply nodded, bowing her head. Really, what the fuck did this family have against Desire? She was the kindest person George had ever known and they treated her like shit.

  Knowing Desire would rather have her keep quiet, George did her best to sound properly sorry as she said, “It was my fault, step-aunt. I shall clean this mess without delay.”

  The subservient tone made Beryl smile. The stupid chit had truly fallen in love with the marquis. Since her return, she had been spiritless, and Beryl knew Georgina’s lackluster attitude gave her the perfect opportunity to make her move.

  She had been very careful dealing with the child, knowing that the girl was not to be underestimated even though she was merely human. It had incensed her, the way Georgina had managed to avoid Beryl’s plans of compromising her for marriage at every turn. Perhaps now she would succeed.

  Did the idiot really think someone as powerful as the Marquis of Lunare would fall in love with her? She had been acquired as a human pet precisely for that reason – to be a human pet! It was ridiculous, utterly shameful the way this human upstart actually seemed to be heartbroken that the marquis was not giving her the time of the day.

  Human pets were expendable, and plain humans were edible. It had always been so in this part of the world.

  Beryl turned to her daughters. “Let us leave before this filth becomes a part of us.” She waved her hand towards the door and the two younger girls quickly followed her.

  Pausing on the doorway, Beryl said, “I expect you not to leave this room until I return and give it a final inspection.”

  “Yes, milady.”

  The door slammed shut.

  Georgina walked to the nearest chair and collapsed on it. “They’re usually more subtle than that,” she told Desire.

  Her companion laughed. “Yes. Normally, they make excuses after excuses about why you should not accompany them.” Desire looked at her with concern. “And you’re usually less agreeable.”

  George shook her head. “It’s still not something I want to talk about.” She stood up, feeling restless like she always did every time something related to him came up. Walking to the door, she tried to turn the knob. To her surprise, she found it locked.

  She rattled it again. It really was locked.

  “What the hell?”

  Desire almost pricked her finger with her embroidery needle. “What is it, George?”

  “She’s locked us in!”

  Frowning, Desire set aside her embroidery frame and joined George at the door. She tried the knob, which refused to turn in her hand. “Why would she lock us in?”

  “That’s what I’m here to find out,” George said as she marched to the window.

  “George, not that again!”

  George hitched her skirts up as she straddled the ledge. “I need to show her that she can’t lock us in anytime she wants, Des. It’s too much.” She made a grab for the nearest branch.

  “But---”

  She swung to the other side. “It’s going to be okaaay----” As she moved towards the tree, she felt something pulling her back. Twisting around, she realized that a part of her skirt had been snagged on a protruding nail.

  Oh, shit.

  The branch she was holding on to began to creak in protest.

  Oh, fuck.

  The branch broke.

  ****

  George’s step cousins were nothing like her at all, Ilie observed even as he bowed, smiled, and courteously kissed their hands. And finally, it was the Red Witch’s turn, and he turned on the charm, having swiftly sized her up and realizing right away that she could be enticed by seduction.

  “It is an honor to welcome you in our humble abode, milord,” Beryl murmured graciously as they took their seats.

  “I would have been here sooner if I had known there were such beautiful women in this home.” He said the words to include the witch’s daughters, but he kept his gaze on Beryl.

  There was no mistaking the lust in the marquis’ eyes. Her senses quickened. “May I ask what you would like to talk about?”

  He offered her the invitation. “It is from the Marquis of Sangre. He is holding a ball to welcome home the Duke of Brimstone. It is said that the duke is in search of a bride, and so all eligible ladies are invited to attend.”

  Beryl’s fingers shook slightly as she took the invitation. A heartkeeper, she thought, her heart beating madly. If any of her daughters were to be the duke’s heartkeeper, she would gain power once more and this time, no one would be able to stop her.

  “Milady, regarding the ball, may I speak with you privately for a moment?”

  “Of course.” Beryl nodded to her daughters. “Girls, if you can afford us a moment. Perhaps you would like to inform the Cook that we have an esteemed guest so she can have some refreshments ready.”

  Her daughters’ gazes darted curiously back and forth between Beryl and the marquis even as they curtsied and hurried away. When the door closed behind them, the marquis smiled.

  It was not a nice smile, and her heartbeat sped up even more. Oh, it had been so long since she had been able to enjoy the touch of one who was no weak human male!

  “As I understand, Lady Beryl, a human pet of mine has come back to your household.”

  She raised a brow. “Oh?”

  “I will not pretend and say I do not know who you are, Lady Beryl. But what you have done in the past is of no concern of mine. In fact, I may even say that we share the same, err, tastes in pleasure.”

  Beryl wetted her lips. “Go on.”

  “That pet escaped me with the help of human servants and I want her back. She has yet to be broken, and if you wish, you may break her with me.” His gaze narrowed. “But it must not reach the Duke of Brimstone, for he does not countenance such games.”

  “Will the duke know if she does not appear at the ball?”

  “I will help you with the excuses, but as the ball is tomorrow, it would be better if she…disappears…tonight.”

  “You are sure that no one will know about this?”

  Fangs flashed and Beryl almost drew back in fear.

  Ilie said silkily even as he trembled with suppressed rage, “I am the Marquis of Lunare, and one of the Duke of Brimstone’s Galeré. Do you doubt my skills?”

  Realizing she had overstepped her bounds, she hastily backtracked, murmuring softly, “I did not mean to cause offense, milord. She is, of course, yours. To be perfectly truthful, milord, it would be a boon for me if you were to take her now. She has yet to be broken, as you say, but because I need to take care of my standing in this society, I cannot risk doing anything that may besmirch my name.”

  “No one will hold you accountable for her disappearance, I promise you.” He stood up. “Now, I must go and make my preparations. Tonight, I shall come back for her. You are not to deviate from your usual habits.”

  “My girls and I have a ball to attend to…”

  “Perfect. Will she need to attend?”

  “Not if I do not want to.”

  He gave her a feral smile. “Then you will not want to.”

  It was only when he was outside Lady Beryl’s home that he was finally able to breathe. The atmosphere inside had been tainted with so much evil and death it was a miracle that George had not become affected by it.

  As he walked towards the gates where his carriage awaited, he heard a feminine gasp followed by muffled cursing. He stiffened. That could only mean one thing.

  ****

  A silent scream came out of George as she started to fall. Thi
s was it, this was the end. But instead of feeling her head crack against the ground, George experienced hard arms wrapping around her, cushioning her fall.

  She opened her eyes.

  Silviu smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “Hello, milady.”

  “You.” She quickly struggled to get out of his hold and he let her go easily. Too easily, a voice taunted George in her mind.

  The hurt and betrayal in Georgina’s gaze caused him acute pain, but he had no time to offer explanations. But just for a moment, he indulged himself by looking at her. She was thinner now, her gown hanging loosely on her body. And her face was drawn, with dark circles under her eyes.

  She was still the prettiest thing on earth in his eyes, and his heart clenched at being the reason for her unhappiness. “You must take better care, milady.” His voice came out harsher than he intended. It was all he could do not to kiss her and take her away from all this.

  Like you really care, she thought dully. Her lips tightened, but she didn’t say a word. She simply turned her back and walked away.

  It is time to go, Your Grace. Ilie spoke quietly to the duke, his voice without inflection. He had been about to run to catch George, but he had stopped upon seeing Silviu beat him to it, the duke’s face a picture of terror.

  And Silviu had really looked terrified. Did the duke truly care that much for George? Did he, Ilie, care for the human girl just as much? He supposed the question could be related to love, but he and Silviu were half-demons and love was not something that they were known to experience.

  Silviu slid back into the shadows slowly, and taking that as his cue, Ilie returned to the carriage.

  It went well then?

  Yes, Ilie answered. I will come back for your heartkeeper tonight.

  It took a long time for Silviu to reply. She may not want to be my heartkeeper after what I have done to her.

  She will understand once you explain everything to her, Your Grace.

  Chapter Ten

  This instaframe is brought to you by Chalysian Torturing Devices, AKA the Ball Attire.

  From L-R: Lacy gloves that can’t protect your hands worth shit. Corset that won’t let you breathe. Ball gown that’s heavier than armor. Satin shoes that make you feel like you’re walking barefoot – in the worst possible way.

  #party #ihatedressingup

  A hand covering her mouth woke George up. She thrashed in the darkness of her room just before she was dragged out of the bed. A bag was thrown over her head next, preventing her from seeing her assailant, followed by ropes quickly binding her wrists.

  She heard voices speaking but couldn’t make out the words or even identify whom those voices belonged to. All George knew was that it was both a man and a woman speaking, and they were probably deciding how to…kill her?

  The thought made her renew her struggles, and she kicked wildly, trying to hit what she could. Once or twice, she connected with hard muscled flesh – no doubt her assailant, who only grunted but did not say a word.

  Something hit the back of George’s head before she could kick again, turning the world completely black.

  The sight of George crumpling to the ground angered him to the point of murder, but Ilie controlled his rage and was able to summon a smile as he turned back to face the Red Witch.

  She smiled back at him coyly, a beautiful woman with creamy skin and come-hither eyes that were completely lacking of…soul.

  It was uncanny, the way he noticed such things now and only because he had spent some hours in George’s company.

  He knelt down, gently parting George’s hair to check if her scalp was bleeding.

  “It is nothing she will not recover from,” Beryl said dismissively.

  “I like my pets to be a little fiery,” Ilie lied. “It would be no fun if this one lost the ability to fight.”

  Beryl nodded with an understanding smile. “You and I will truly get along, milord,” she purred. “I will see you tomorrow at the duke’s ball?”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  She went to his side, dressed in silk and lace that hid none of her curves. “But first, I must know how well we match.” Without warning, she lifted her hands to bring his head down for a kiss.

  Left without a choice, Ilie took her lips, making sure to inject just the right amount of passion in the kiss. His hands shaped her body, knowing where and how to touch to incite the greatest reaction from her. Knowing that the Red Witch found pain arousing, he deliberately pinched her nipples as hard as he could.

  She gasped against his mouth, her hands going to his hair, pulling hard, enough perhaps to pull out strands. One hand moved down, gripping his cock, and she was as knowledgeable as he was, her fingers knowing how to stroke his flesh into an erection he did not want to feel.

  The lust Ilie felt sickened him, but he knew he had to continue kissing her so as not to leave any doubts in the Red Witch’s mind about his intentions. He moved his hands down her body, stroking her belly before finding the opening that would lead his fingers to her pussy.

  He flicked her clit, once, twice, but on the third time he pinched it, harder than he usually did. The Red Witch gasped, her nails raking and drawing blood from his neck.

  Ilie rubbed her clit more furiously, wanting it to be over. In moments, she was shuddering against his hand, flooding it with her wetness. He moved back as he felt the trembling ease, wiping his hand with his handkerchief.

  Beryl sighed luxuriantly. “That was…promising, milord.”

  “You will experience more pleasure once we have this girl broken and enslaved.”

  “Will she be ready by tomorrow?”

  “Perhaps. I like to take my time with the breaking.” He gave her a smile of pure coldness. “Prolonging the pain is better than a quick kill, don’t you think, milady?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  He hefted the still unconscious George on his shoulder. As he neared the window, Beryl could not help but ask. “You are sure that the authorities will not catch you?” Asphodel’s human authorities were extremely sharp, annoyingly so. They knew of Chalys’ secrets and took the safety of their human residents seriously. She did not relish the prospect of being made to run out of her house just as she had hundreds years ago, all because of a stupid and careless mistake.

  Now, she was more careful, more devious, and her caution had been so far rewarded, with none in society suspicious about her identity or her activities.

  But then…if the marquis knew about her, Beryl also knew it was only a matter of time. She looked at the girl on the marquis’ shoulders. It would be good if Georgina McCartney died soon. She was one of the few loose ends Beryl needed to get rid of in order to have full access to the family fortunes.

  If she learned that the marquis had still not disposed of her in a month’s time, then perhaps she would make her move.

  Seeing the dubious look on the Red Witch’s face, Ilie again went on the offensive, saying in a velvety voice, “Countess, I am disappointed. Do I need to remind you once more that I am no green boy lacking experience in such matters?”

  Beryl forced herself to smile. “Again, I apologize, milord. It is only that it has been so long since I have been involved with this type of pleasure.”

  She could see that he clearly did not believe her and was not shy in letting her know that. Beryl laughed. “Smart man,” she cooed.

  “Until tomorrow, Lady Beryl.”

  She watched him jump out of the window, landing in the darkness of the shadows and swiftly making his way to a waiting carriage.

  Once she was sure the carriage was gone, vanishing in the corner as it sped away, she quickly walked back to her room and took the secret passageway that led to her dungeons.

  When she made a turn to the first row of cells, Cornel was already there. He was a tall and indiscriminate looking man, one of the few chameleon shapeshifters left in the world. He had a rasping voice, a result of his throat being slashed by an angel’s heaven-forged blade, the punishmen
t for daring to defile a citizen of Ciel so many centuries ago.

  He had lived in exile since then, and only through Beryl was he able to indulge his proclivities. In return, he did what had to be done to ensure that their activities remained a secret.

  “Do you have it?”

  She gave him several strands of the marquis’ hair.

  He cackled. “This will do quite nicely.”

  “You are certain you will be able to attend the duke’s ball tomorrow?”

  He spat at the ground. “I can make my way to his very bedroom if necessary.”

  “Then stay close, Cornel. I do not completely trust the marquis. I need more time to observe him and see where all this will lead to.”

  ****

  The back of her head blazed with pain as she slowly regained consciousness. What the fuck had happened?

  George rubbed her eyes, found herself in unfamiliar surroundings, and tried not to groan out loud. She was fucking kidnapped…again?

  “Milady.”

  By the same fucking man?

  Without opening her eyes, she asked tiredly, “What the fuck do you want from me?”

  Silviu flinched at her tone. It was completely unlike the Georgina he knew, the one who never stopped fighting. “Let me explain, ma threa. And if you still do not want to see or hear from me again, then so be it. This I swear on the name of my mother, the angel Magdalene.”

  She didn’t answer.

  Silviu frowned. “Georgina?”

  She reluctantly looked at him, and she wished right away that she hadn’t.

  He was still beautiful, still as damnably sexy as she remembered. She wished she had forgotten him but she hadn’t. She couldn’t. She had dreamt of Silviu every goddamn night, and every morning she would wake up with a tear-stained face.

  He had told her he wanted to marry her and then just as suddenly he had left her on the doorstep of Lady Beyotch’s home. Of course that would fucking kill her! And now, and now – and now he was fucking telling her he had a valid explanation for all of it?

  She stalked towards him. “Let me do this, asshole.”