Caught in the Devils' Hand

by Ruby Duvall

  “Stay here and finish your bath, woman. I shall return in a moment,” he said, noisily leaving the river as water ran in rivulets off his soaked clothing. Her eyebrows came together in confusion, wondering what he wanted now and hoping that she could refuse him since it most likely wasn’t included in their bargain.

  He was gone before she had a chance to ask anything though, and she sat there for a few seconds in indecision. She didn’t want to stay in the river any longer, certain that she would catch a cold now, if she hadn’t already, but he had said he would return in a moment, and she didn’t want to be nude in front of him anymore than she had to.

  She knew the Binding, however, would hold him back from making any attempts to take her again, and she didn’t want to stay in the freezing river water another second. Making her decision, she climbed out of the sandy riverbed, kneeling on the cold, wet grass and shivering in the slight breeze that was filtering in through the branches of the bushes. She felt the cloth of her dress to see how dry it was but wasn’t surprised to find that it was still pretty damp. She dried her hands on it though and pulled a small, half-broken comb out of the pocket. Pulling it through her tangled hair, she worked on the knots for about five minutes before a sound alerted her to Vallen’s return.

  She had told herself earlier that she shouldn’t be scared to let him see her body since he couldn’t touch her now, but a sudden sharp pang of shyness went through her, and she quickly grabbed for her damp dress to shield herself, shivering as the cold, wet fabric touched the dry but chilled skin of her chest.

  Vallen emerged from between the overlapping branches of the riverside bushes, taking up what little space was left on the bank, and Shumei looked up at him as she crouched on the grass with her wet robe wrapped around her. Her hair was mostly combed, though a few tangles remained, and the flush on her cheeks from the intimacy they had shared earlier still remained on her face.

  She couldn’t help the small intake of breath as she took in his new apparel. Before, he had been wearing fine but plain traditional clothing, a simple black. Now he wore black again, but his shirt boasted very intricate red embroidery along the sleeves that depicted delicate flames licking up his arms. The strings on the outer tie of his shirt were bright red, and the shirt itself cut across his chest and shoulders perfectly to show off his toned form.

  His black, traditional pants, tucked into his boots, bore the same red embroidery along the side to show more flames dancing up his lower limbs. Even his lace-up black leather boots sported the same embroidery, perfectly matching the pants’ design to make the pattern look seamless. She noticed too that he was holding something large and soft under a huge red towel in his arms.

  “You look like a drowned rat,” he wryly observed, though he was lying through his teeth. She looked extremely delectable, however ugly the garment she was using to block his view of her flawless skin. Her skin was so smooth, pale and perfect. To have the honor of bathing her in Kaisuian soap would be an extremely great pleasure. He made a mental note to do that someday soon.

  He saw her jaw harden and was glad that she took the sideswipe comment in stride. Her voice was calm and steady as she replied, “What’s worse? Being a drowned rat, or seducing one? One sounds much more disgusting than the other.” She let the insult fly from her mouth without subtlety. He tsk’d at her, a grin sitting on his face.

  “Now, now…don’t lie about that,” he said, inwardly wincing at his duplicity since he had just lied to her about her appearance. “You came to me freely and judging by the delicious contractions I felt as I thrust into you, you enjoyed it immensely.” He gloated at the blush that came to her cheeks, further inflaming her face. She looked away, tucking the tattered garment tighter to her body.

  “What do you want now, demon?” she said, emphasizing the last word with an extra ounce of venom.

  “Don’t be so aloof, my dear,” he said as he lowered himself on bent knees. His face was only a few inches higher than hers and he tilted her face up with one hand on her chin. “I’ve brought you presents.” She resisted the urge to jerk her chin away.

  She watched as he folded back the heavy, thick towel. Gasping in surprise, for she had no idea what might have been under the towel, she was taken aback upon seeing a new, finely made dress, one that would undoubtedly fit her much better than the stained, heavily maintained dress now clinging coldly to her skin. The matching belt, socks and even boots for the new dress sat on top. The boots looked comfortable yet durable, and the socks looked soft and warm. The actual dress was a simple black, though she could see some gray embroidery on part of it.

  Her hands twitched to touch the rich fabric, but she kept her hands against her body, holding up the meager protection her nudity had from his sharp eyes. Trying not to show her desire for the dress, she looked down at her hands.

  “I cannot accept that. Everyone in the village would notice it and wonder where I purchased it. My family is much too poor to afford such a garment, even if we sold all our medicines for three years,” she explained, unknowingly hinting that she did in fact want the dress. She had been ridiculed for her poor, meager clothing too many times to count and other girls not only had newer dresses, but usually far more than only one.

  Vallen’s expression was difficult for her to read. She wasn’t sure if he was sympathetic, angry or simply disappointed. Perhaps it was all three. She doubted, though, that he could feel sympathy or disappointment. They were not in his heart to feel.

  “You will take this dress, and you will wear it. If anyone asks, tell them that it’s none of their business,” he stubbornly said, setting the robe on the ground. His expression had been anger.

  “That’s not good enough. They will not accept such an excuse. They are cruel, especially to me and mine. They will banish me from the village if they think I’m whoring myself for the luxuries they can’t afford.”

  “But you are,” he said, insulting her as soundly as a slap across the face. She blinked rapidly, her eyes suddenly stinging as her heart clenched inside her chest. She bared her teeth, fuming with hatred.

  “I am no whore. A whore willingly trades herself for money and possessions. I am forced into this relationship with you not only to prevent the women in my village from suffering a similar fate but also to stay close to my mother and brother.”

  “Those villagers who are so cruel? You would protect them? And I did offer to bring your brother with us, if you agreed to live with me in my domain. You and he would want for nothing.”

  “I’ll not leave my mother behind, and I don’t want my precious brother to be taken under your wing! He’s as pure as the driven snow, while you are as tainted as a salted garden!!” she yelled. She saw his nostrils flare in anger and instantly shied away, not brave enough to take the force of his raised ire, even if he could not strike her.

  He suddenly reached forward and pulled her dress from her arms, upsetting her balance enough to half-tumble her back into the river, though only her shins were wetted again. With a simple pull, his two strong hands ripped her dress into two halves. Her mouth fell open in complete shock, seeing her one and only piece of clothing for the past several years torn in an irreparable manner.

  “Y-you…you ho-horrible child! How dare you ruin my clothing!” she stammered, coming out of the river again to grab at the remains of her clothing, no longer caring if she was naked or not. Her righteous anger would be her shield. Not even the anger he had yet shown her would frighten her now. She literally had nothing left of her own.

  Vallen tossed the two halves into the river behind her, grasping her wrists as she tried to catch the remaining shreds. Hauling her to her feet, he picked up the towel as he stood and roughly began to dry her. One hand trapped her wrists in his firm grip while the other scrubbed the towel over the parts of her body still glistening with moisture.

  “D-don’t you touch me!” she said in a livid voice. She tried to squirm away from him, but his hold on her wrists was too strong. “You are
breaking your end of the bargain by groping me in such a manner!” He made a mocking noise that sounded close to a snort.

  “When I am touching you sexually, you will know. I am merely drying and dressing you before you actually do catch some sort of disease. If you become ill from this stupidity, your next meeting with me might be more nauseating than the normal repugnance you have for me.”

  “St-stupidity?! If you had never come to harass me in the first place, I would have finished my bath long ago and been able to leave within an hour’s time once my dress was dry enough to wear! You were the one who kept me in that cold river, forced me to—to—”

  “To cry out with pleasure?” he suggested as an answer.

  “To endure intimacy with you,” she supplied, forging onward, “and then tore the only thing I had left to give me any semblance of decency in this ungrateful village!”

  “I believe that you were rather warm and comfortable when we were locked in that last embrace,” he accused, pulling her closer, “and when I would give you a better garment to warm you in the crisp morning air, a garment that would give you more decency than that rag behind you, you were just as ungrateful as the rest of your fellow villagers by not accepting my generosity!”

  “Generosity?! When have you been generous?!” she railed. Her eyes were cloudy with anger and all she wanted to see was the shock of contrite humiliation on the face of her debaucher, even if only for a second. She didn’t, however, see the swiftly rising fury that boiled within the demon she taunted. “You seduced me! You then basically blackmailed me into bearing your lusts once a week! You belittle me at every turn, you destroyed my only dress, however poor a dress it was, and you then expect me to be grateful?!” Her mind searched frantically for the worst insult she could think of, something that would specifically hurt him and considering the words and ideas that had earlier inflamed his ire, she found and voiced what she hoped would inflict the most pain.

  “You are the King of Oblivion himself, and everything about you is evil!” she yelled.

  His nostrils flared, his eyes widened and his jaw flexed with anger so intense that a deep red color began to bleed into his sky blue irises. She was instantly cowed, flinching away and gasping in fear for her safety. Though the Binding would cut off his tenuous access to her sexual energy should he strike her, it was entirely possible to kill her with one blow.

  “I…have had…enough,” he ground out, his voice very low in pitch. “If you speak again, then the next time we meet as per our agreement, I shall draw out our session to last the entire breadth of the sun’s trek across the summer sky. Though I cannot threaten violence upon you, I can threaten to spend the entire day thrusting inside of you until you go mad with the lack of release. So help me, Shumei, I can drive you insane if I want to…” he growled, his voice reaching that low, inhuman tone that she had heard briefly last night when he spilled himself inside of her.

  She hastily nodded, curling as much into herself as she could while he held her wrists.

  “Now hold still. You will be dressed in only a few moments,” he bit out, his voice slowly losing the infernal tone.

  Shivering in the cold, she stood stock still as he dried her, spending as much time drying her more intimate parts as the rest of her, as if he didn’t care, but she could feel strong, small pulses of desire within him and however unwillingly, she began to ache for a release again but dared not show him any encouragement. She didn’t want him to touch her any more than he had already threatened.

  Once satisfied that she was dry, he carefully laid the towel aside and picked up the dress. Gently unfolding it, he pulled it across her shoulders, quietly commanding her to put her arms through the loose sleeves. Once the edges were folded over each other, she held the dress in place while he tied the plain black belt, snugly shutting the dress. The bottom hem of the garment touched the tops of her feet, the perfect length. He let her lean against his shoulder as he knelt and slid on the socks and boots, and she was hard-pressed not to notice the gentle way he held her slender ankles.

  Vallen was actually quite tall, something she finally took note of when she was once again standing. He was head and shoulders above her, and she was of average height amongst the other women in the village.

  She silently relished the feel of the socks on her calloused feet. The boots were just as comfortable as she had guessed, and the dress was warm, flattering and soft. She bit back a “thank you” rising up in her throat and looked at him as he quietly studied her. A warm, very powerful throb of desire in the pit of her stomach told her how much he liked seeing the dress on her.

  “Where did you get this?” she asked, curious to know how this garment had been so readily available.

  “That is a long story indeed. I may tell you next week.”

  “Why not now?” she asked, even more curious.

  “If you don’t leave me now, I will not be able to stop myself from taking you again,” he sighed, rubbing his hand across his belly as if he were hungry. A startled look came over her face, and she hastily picked up the last of her own things still sitting on the ground.

  “I shall take my leave then,” she mumbled, hoping he would move out of the way so that she could push past him and exit their little pocket of privacy.

  “Do I not get a goodbye kiss? Until we meet again next week?” he softly asked, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. His voice sent a shiver down her spine, an altogether pleasant timbre that she wished he didn’t have.

  “Is that part of the bargain we made?” she dryly asked, expecting to hear the next series of logical but made-up excuses he would use to make his request fit their deal.

  “No, it isn’t…I just want one last taste of you before you leave,” he whispered, leaning close. Surprised that for once he didn’t demand something from her, she brought her head up in shock and gasped when she found how close his face was.

  “V-Vallen,” she stammered, looking at his slightly ajar mouth with those firm, smooth lips.

  “Shumei, please kiss me goodbye,” he murmured, his mouth edging closer but not closing the distance.

  He asked so sweetly and after all their arguing and insults, this was so unexpectedly endearing.

  With the thought that rewarding this kind of behavior was a good idea, she tilted her face up the last inch that separated her from him. Her eyes closed and she sighed as he took total possession of her mouth, as if he would experience their shared bath again with just a kiss. His fingers gently stroked down her cheek before his entire hand cupped her jaw, and she heard the smallest sigh of pleasure escape his mouth.

  When the kiss ended, she could feel a strong, steady throbbing between her legs and knew that only some of the sensation was mirrored from Vallen.

  The rest was her own sexual excitement.

  “Go then,” he whispered, his thumb gently stroking her jaw. “In the field where we first met, meet me at the seventh dawn from today. I shall take up your entire morning, so be prepared,” he said against her lips, giving her one last kiss before abruptly turning and leaving. She heard his retreating footsteps for only a few seconds, and then he was gone.

  Chapter Five

  As Shumei walked back to her home, she luxuriated in the feel of fine cloth against her skin and dreaded the moment that someone would notice her in it. The chances of running into someone at this time of the morning were small though, so she successfully ducked into her home without anyone knowing of her new garments.

  It wouldn’t be long, though, before someone did notice.

  The hut was surprisingly cool inside despite the fire still simmering near the back of the room. Lowering herself next to her brother, she checked his forehead again and found his skin dry and cool. He was sleeping peacefully, and she intended to leave him like that until he awoke on his own. Tucking the blanket more securely around him and sweeping a few stray golden locks of hair off his forehead, she stood again and walked to her mother, who was in the same position as she had left
her.

  Last night, Oka was awake long enough to take a cup of water, but her mother wouldn’t drink any. Now thinking that her mother might be thirsty, she gingerly sat down next to her mother to wake her gently. Explaining the new dress to her mother would not be easy. She would have to tell the truth, and the truth was very ugly.

  Reaching out to her mother, she grasped the woman’s thin shoulder and gave her a gentle shake.

  But her body rocked stiffly, as if she were frozen with cold.

  As if she were dead.

  Shumei stilled and her mouth popped open as a small gasp entered her lungs. Hoping that her mother was merely holding her body tightly in her sleep as some do when it’s cold outside, she shook her mother’s shoulder again, only harder.

  Her mother’s hair fell limply across her face, revealing a pair of blue, stiff lips. Now forcefully pulling her mother onto her back, she nearly screamed in fright as her mother’s arms slowly fell to her sides, half-stiff with rigor mortis. She had definitely died, though probably not more than two hours ago.

  Perhaps only a few minutes after she had left the hut to go bathe. She was certain that she saw her mother breathing when she left.

  Or had she?

  She couldn’t help the sob that escaped her throat. She covered her mouth, her eyes scrunching up as she looked upon her dead mother.

  “Mama…mama, I’m sorry,” she whimpered, choking on the massive lump in her throat as hot, salty tears began to run freely down her cheeks. The lump in her throat slowly traveled up and though she swallowed several times to keep it down, it rose without stopping until a harsh cry was ripped from her lungs.

  Now covering her face with both hands, she couldn’t control the massive sobs that overtook her, making her body shake and shudder along with her fast, shallow gasps for air. Her face became hot, and a dull, pounding headache began in the back of her head, slowly traveling through to her forehead. Her hands and forearms quickly became wet with the torrent of tears flowing from her eyes.

  Nothing had been easy for her mother and now she was dead.