Deliverance (Knights of Black Swan Book 12)

by Victoria Danann

  Deliverance knew women well enough to know that negative comments about personal appearance pierced straight through the heart. And he was out to hurt the witch who’d hurt him.

  He had to give it to her though. If it hurt, she didn’t show it. That meant she had pride. He filed that away for future reference. There would be a way to use that against her. He was sure of it.

  “Don’t you owe me something?” he said.

  “You mean the curse?” She chuckled. “You’re as out of touch with your feelings as a human, Deliverance. Do you feel uncomfortable?”

  His cold demeanor wavered as confusion flashed across his beautiful face. It resolved quickly when he realized that he did, in fact, feel… comfortable. At ease in his skin for the first time in so long. He wanted to laugh out loud, from the sheer joy and relief of it, but would never give her that satisfaction.

  He dropped his arms and sauntered toward the window. “Seems you’ve done well for yourself.”

  “Hmmm,” she said noncommittally.

  “What does WC stand for?”

  “Wylie Coyote.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “That’s not it.” He brightened. “Got it. WC for British toilet. Water closet.” He smiled. “Do I get a prize for guessing? Something like, oh, release from this farce?”

  She matched his smirk. “You might as well get comfortable because you’re not going anywhere. And, if you think you can hurt me with words, you’re mistaken. Or maybe naïve.”

  He smiled. “I know.” He snapped his fingers. “It’s witch cunt, isn’t it?”

  She barked out a sharp laugh. “Yes, demon. You found me out. I named my company witch cunt. Now if you’re done with the word games, let’s get on with establishing some ground rules.”

  He flopped into the chair nearest her desk. “I’m not good with rules. Actually I’m kind of surprised you don’t know that. Seems like most witches worth their brimstone would.”

  “You’ll be good with rules or you’ll leave with a curse. And let me make myself crystal clear. This was a onetime offer. Fuck this up and you’ll never get another chance at freedom. Are we clear?”

  Sixt watched his nostrils flare slightly as he glared with dark eyes that flashed with an inner light. She was thinking that she could never get tired of looking at him, not even his mean face.

  His eyes flashed in anger, but Sixt wasn’t afraid. She was fascinated.

  “Crystal,” he said through clenched teeth. “I keep my bargains.”

  “Good. As do I. So ground rules.”

  His eyes dipped to the paper in front of her. He gestured to indicate that he was waiting.

  “When I’m not at the office, you will be available to me. To do whatever I ask.”

  “No touching.”

  “That was agreed. Like you, I keep my bargains. I will arrive home around six in the evening.”

  “Every day? Seven days a week?”

  “Five days a week Monday through Friday. You will spend time with me for up to four hours a day, as per contract. Weekend hours will be determined.”

  “Will they?” He lowered his eyelids to half mast, clearly able to sustain anger for longer than a few seconds at a time. “What does ‘up to’ mean?”

  “It means that sometimes I may not have that much time.” She cocked her head. “Or that much patience.”

  “And what will we do for this ‘up to four hours’?”

  “If I stay in, you will be my companion. If I go out, you will accompany me. You will converse with me while I dine in or out. We might go to movies. Or theater. Or ballet.” He snorted. “Maybe we’ll watch TV. I heard that you like fifties reruns. Especially I Love Lucy.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Your charming granddaughter.”

  “My granddaughter can be charming when she doesn’t have a big mouth.”

  “Hmmm. Well, there are lots of things to do in the world.”

  Deliverance harrumphed. “As I’m considerably older, I would know that better than you. However, interesting pastimes are limited when you’re restricted to one dimension.”

  “No doubt. You will also be on the premises at night, seven nights a week, while I’m sleeping.”

  “Why?”

  “No questions. You will also accompany me when I travel. You can use your own mode of transportation if you wish.”

  “What is it that you hope to gain from this?” Deliverance said with more impatience than he intended to divulge.

  “I said no questions, but since you asked so nicely I will tell you that my motives are my own,” she said without hesitation, which meant she’d anticipated the question and decided how to answer it before it was asked. “The household staff will come during the day, but will be gone by the time I’m home for the evening. At night, only you and I will occupy my apartment. There is a butler’s residence within the penthouse that you are free to use as you see fit.”

  Actually, one of Graydon’s duties, if not the principal requirement, was to live in and sleep there at night. Ashes kept Sixt from feeling alone, but she never felt completely secure unless a two-legged person was there at night; meaning a person who was two-legged more often than four. She knew it was unrealistically phobic, and she knew the entire world would have a good laugh if they knew a Fortune 500 CEO was afraid to be by herself at night, but childhood trauma is highly resistant to cure and often it flatly refuses to die.

  Sixt needed to know someone else was there in order to relax completely. And sleep.

  “Oh? I can have guests then?”

  “Certainly not.”

  “Then you need to decide what is meant by ‘as I see fit’.”

  She flushed. “I meant that you can… decorate it any way you wish.”

  Deliverance looked at her like she was insane. “Decorate it.” He repeated the phrase drily then laughed softly while shaking his head. “You intend to keep me as an unwilling pet.”

  “No. I do not. You’re free to go whenever you wish, but the curse will reattach itself the first day that you fail to adhere to the rules.”

  “Tread carefully, witch. When you seek to enslave a demon, you are playing with fire in the truest sense of the phrase.”

  “I will abide by the terms of the agreement we struck. I expect you to do the same.”

  “To the letter of the contract. If you ask for more, the deal and the curse will be nullified, whether the time is done or not.”

  “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “You’re thinking that I’ll get tired of your bullshit and kick you out.” He smiled wickedly. “To express the challenge in modern terms, bring it on.”

  He laughed. “Mark my words. You will rue the day you picked a fight with me.”

  She cocked her head. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  He raised both eyebrows. “Should I?” She looked away quickly to hide her flush just as realization swept over him. “Did I hurt your feelings somehow? Spurned you maybe? And all of this was because you felt slighted?” He was sounding a little incredulous. “All this time… If I didn’t know what I’d done or who I’d done it to, how do you imagine your curse was a fitting reaction?”

  “I’m not saying it was well thought out.”

  “Then why didn’t you release me? Or at least tell me what I’d done. That would have been too just? Too merciful? Or just too much trouble?”

  “None of those. I was young… in witch terms.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Not that young. A curse that works on a demon, especially one that attaches and follows everywhere, takes power.”

  “I didn’t say my power was pitiful. I said I was young.” She was getting flustered. The demon had been there for less than twenty minutes and had already managed to flummox her. Not going the way she’d planned.

  “You may as well tell me what I did. Personally I think I deserve to know.”

  “Maybe I’ll tell you tonight at dinner.”
She rose from her desk. “Right now I want to show you around the apartment. Get you settled in.”

  “Settled in.” He repeated those two words with such venom that she almost had second thoughts.

  Almost.

  “Yes. Would you like to ride or walk?”

  When she rose and walked around the desk, he got a look at her from head to toe and whistled at the red shoes. Not the shapely ankles.

  “You would walk in those? How far?”

  “A few blocks. And no. If we’re walking, I will change shoes. And what would a demon know about the tortures of high heels?”

  He lowered his chin and locked gazes with her. “I’m an Abraxas demon. An incubus. I know a lot about women. All kinds of women.” She flushed again. “Ah. Ah. Ah,” he said in singsong. “Looking, but no touching. Meaning that you cannot touch me. Even if my proximity gives you feverish fantasies and feminine wet dreams.”

  “Are all incubi so smug?”

  “When it comes to sexual desire, yes. Of course. You do understand that I’m a sex demon. Right?”

  Since the question was rhetorical, she ignored it. “I know the rules.”

  “Simply reiterating.”

  “Understood. Walking it is.” She put the red shoes in a bottom drawer and withdrew a pair of charcoal gray cross trainers. After lacing up, she said, “Shall we?”

  He motioned for her to proceed ahead of him. She pulled the strap of her one-of-a-kind Italian designer messenger bag over her head so that she could wear it cross body. Safer on the streets of New York.

  As they made their way to the elevator, Deliverance drew the attention of everyone who looked up in time to see them, just as she’d known he would. It seemed to her that he went out of his way to smile at her female employees, who either blushed or looked like they might swoon. Fucker, she thought, though she knew jealousy was beyond silly. She had no right or cause to be possessive of the demon. She was no longer the young witch, practically an adolescent, who had cursed him impetuously without real regard or understanding of consequences. Truthfully, it had slipped her mind until the pretty demon-witch had confronted her.

  Yes. She’d taken advantage of the opportunity to see the demon squirm up close and personal. Was it playing with fire, as he had said? Oh yes. And she knew it, but the prospect was too juicy to resist.

  It was a beautiful Indian summer afternoon as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. She could have used a light sweater, but didn’t have one so she was motivated to walk faster than usual. With long legs that made for long strides the demon had no trouble keeping up. In fact he made it looked effortless to the point of boredom.

  “How long since you walked on the streets of New York?”

  “I think I may have strolled to Twenty-One in the thirties, but I can’t be sure. I’ve been afflicted with an addiction curse and, as everybody knows, they interfere with memory.”

  Sixt sighed and said nothing else until they reached her building. The doorman smiled and Sixt stopped to introduce Deliverance.

  “Riley. This is my new butler, Del.”

  The doorman couldn’t help allowing his eyes to run over Deliverance. It was clear that he was having a hard time hiding his true thoughts, that the Fortune 500 CEO had hired a boy toy, but he made an effort to look nonplussed. “Good afternoon, sir.” He nodded to the demon.

  “Del will have a key to the elevator, of course. Please see that everyone is aware that he’s to be given full permissions.”

  “Of course.” Riley held the door open while they passed through.

  In the elevator, Deliverance said, “A key to the elevator?”

  “Did you expect me to say that you’ll be poofing in and out?”

  “Poofing?” He suppressed a chuckle as soon as he realized he was about to give in to the impulse. He had no intention of allowing the witch to believe he was okay with the arrangement on any level. He had every intention of making her life as miserable as his had been. For her the year and a day would be a cakewalk compared to what he’d do to her when his sentence was up. He smiled to himself at the visions that formed.

  “Welcome home.” It wasn’t meant to sound sarcastic, but that’s how Deliverance took it. A comfortable cage is still a cage. She gave him a tour of the penthouse and told him to make himself at home. “You’re free to come and go,” she said, “just as long as you respond to my call at any hour of the day or night.”

  “What is that?”

  She followed his line of sight to Ashes who was presently curling herself around a door jamb.

  “It’s a cat.”

  “No. It’s not.”

  “What do you think it is?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “She’s my familiar. Has been for a very, very long time.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think she likes you either.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like… her.”

  “Well, she made it clear that she’d prefer you not occupy our space.”

  “Did she now? How did she ‘make that clear’?”

  Sixt gave him her most engaging smile, which was very engaging indeed. “Witchy secrets.”

  “Whatever. You going back to work?”

  “Want me to?”

  “If it means you won’t be near me, then of course I want you to.”

  “Wow. That hurt.”

  “Good.”

  “Okay. I get that you’re mad.”

  “You think?”

  She sighed. “We’ll eat in tonight.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Is that one of your favorite words?”

  Deliverance looked at Sixt like he’d love to throw a fireball and incinerate her where she stood. He looked that way because that’s exactly what he was thinking. “That word is a favorite of just about everybody.”

  “Okay. To answer your question, I’m not going back to the office, but I will leave you alone. I’m going to change clothes and work from home. I’ll be in my study, which is the room…”

  “I know where it is. I got the Cook’s Tour. Remember?”

  “I do.”

  Having had as much bitter repartee as she could stand for the moment, Sixt left Deliverance standing in the kitchen. He reasoned that his four hours hadn’t commenced. Reluctantly, he established a connection to the witch so that he would know when she called, and be able to return instantly.

  The thought ‘dog whistle’ caused the humiliation to burn even more deeply. It pierced through his softer side and crystallized his resolve to make the witch pay. He was one of the most powerful creatures to be found in the grand scheme of things. It was bad enough that the witch had made him a slave to addiction for two-plus centuries.

  The insult of being a demon on a leash hardened his heart until it was cold as stone. The fact that the leash was held by a pretty, redheaded witch would not distract him from his new purpose, his mission.

  He would bide his time. For a year and a day. And savor the pleasure of planning his revenge.

  When the witch retired to her study and closed the door, he disappeared.

  She emerged a few minutes past six. Reaching out with her senses she knew she was alone in the apartment. Though she would never have admitted it, on some level she was relieved. She went to her closet straightaway and changed into lounging clothes, which meant gray leggings, and a nubby silk lavender tunic.

  She opened the refrigerator to see what had been left for her dinner. Salmon salad. A basket of fresh garlic toast was on the table set for one. She selected a bottle of red wine from the wine closet, then said, “Deliverance.” And waited.

  In a few seconds the demon appeared next to the table.

  Ashes was startled enough to let out a yeowl that would put a howler monkey to shame. That was followed by a spit-laden hiss. When Deliverance snapped his fingers, a candle-sized flame extended from his pointer finger. Seeing that, the cat decided to retreat by ba
cking up, never taking her eyes away from the ‘intruder’.

  “I didn’t order for two because your, um, granddaughter said you rarely eat. If you’re hungry, I’ll share.”

  After giving Sixt a contemptuous look, he said, “I’m. Not. Hungry.”

  “Alright. Well, sit and keep me company.”

  He gave a little bow from the waist and said, “Only because I have no choice.”

  When both were seated, he stared out the window.

  As Sixt was putting her napkin in her lap, she said, “Would you mind opening the wine?” Deliverance didn’t move a muscle and didn’t take his attention away from whatever he was looking at. “Deliverance?”

  “What?” he looked at her.

  “The wine.”

  “It’s open.”

  She looked at the bottle sitting next to her goblet. Indeed it was open. The cork stood on the table next to it. “How did you do that? I didn’t hear a thing.”

  Deliverance took in a deep breath. “I suspect there are a thousand things about demons that you do not know, arrogant witch. You may have overreached. Ever heard the expression tiger by the tail?”

  A light came to her eyes when she smiled, but Deliverance told himself it wasn’t attractive in the least. Nothing about her was attractive. In the least.

  “You think of yourself as a tiger, demon?” She laughed.

  “Why is that funny?” he said defensively.

  “Because,” she poured half a glass of wine and took a sip, looking at him over the rim as she did so, “tigers go to sleep dreaming of being demons.”

  He crossed his arms over his middle, having nothing to say to that.

  “So what were you up to this afternoon?”

  “If I understand our arrangement, and I believe I do, I’m not obligated to account for my personal time.”

  “Personal time,” she repeated. “No. You’re not. I’m just making conversation.”

  “The only conversation that holds interest for me is the conversation you promised.”

  She finished chewing the bite of salad in her mouth and set her fork down. “This is really good. You sure you don’t want a taste?”

  He didn’t know if she’d intended a double entendre, but thought he’d better address it. “Just to be clear. There will never be a time when I want a taste.”