How to Lose a Demon in 10 Days

by Saranna Dewylde

  Seraphim eyed him meaningfully. “You know what I mean. Wouldn’t it be better if I chose to be with you on my own? If I chose to—”

  “Fine,” Hades interrupted. “I release you from your vow.”

  “Thank you.” Seraphim picked up a catalog and browsed the shoes, pretending nonchalance. Secretly she was thrilled. And those pumps were absolutely divine!

  “And . . . ?” Hades said, clearly waiting for something.

  “And what?”

  “I released you. Now you’re supposed to capitulate. You’re supposed to agree to marry me.”

  “It doesn’t work if you only released me to get something in return,” Seraphim said calmly.

  “Well, of course I expect something in return. I’m the Devil!”

  “A fact that you keep reminding me of. It’s bad strategy. Kind of like the customer who gets bad service at a restaurant and keeps saying, ‘Don’t you know who I am?’ After the first time, clearly they know who you are and don’t care.”

  He considered for a moment. “Fine. Now you can say you got the better of me. I don’t even care. Just put this on.” Hades shoved something at her.

  There was no way that she was going to—

  It was very lovely, a black diamond in the shape of a heart and set in platinum. The gem changed colors in the light, kind of like an oil slick. There was ornate scrollwork to the side and in the setting, but this was just right for the size of the stone and Seraphim did kind of want to see how it would look on her finger.

  Of course, if she tried it on, he’d never let her take it off. That’s what a voice was screaming in the back of her head. At the same time, “Maybe I’ll just try it on,” came out of her mouth.

  “That’s right you’ll try it on,” Hades snapped. “And you’ll wear it for all eternity. Now, come pay attention to your lord and husband before all Hell breaks loose.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. We’ll deal with Hell later, when and if the rebellion hits. Right now I want to celebrate my new wife.” He swept her off her feet and into his arms.

  “Lovely. Now what?” Seraphim said.

  “What do you think?” They were already in the bedroom.

  Just to be contrary, Seraphim crossed her arms. “What if I don’t want to?”

  “Yeah and what if . . . ? You know what? You win. You want me to be more understanding and listen to what you say. See? Here is me listening.” Hades dropped her unceremoniously on the bed and disappeared.

  “Hades!” She got no response. “If you think this is how we’re starting eternity, you’ve got another think coming.”

  Still no answer. Seraphim seethed on the bed and gritted her teeth. He really wasn’t going to play ball.

  “Hades!” she commanded. Still nothing.

  Okay, he wanted to play hardball? That was fine. She could play blue balls. See how he liked that.

  Seraphim changed her apparel with a snap of her fingers. She was still trying to learn how to wiggle her nose like the actress in Bewitched. It was just for show, of course, but something that she thought was so cute—like dressing as a harem dancer. Seraphim was now covered solely in the gauziest of veils. Each time she moved, her silhouette danced beneath. There were hints of skin, vaguely lush curves and globes.

  “Since I’m all alone, I guess I will just have to do my belly dancing workout,” Seraphim proclaimed. She began to move her hips, slowly at first, rotating them back, then to the home position, then forward. She moved faster and faster until she was twisting like she’d been raised to dance for kings and gods.

  As Seraphim dropped a veil, the temperature in the room went up.

  There you are, you sneaky bastard. But she was careful to keep the gloating smile off her face.

  She dropped another veil, and still another. When she finally got down to four, the room was sweltering like the inside of a volcano and she turned off the music and slipped into bed. She whispered, “Yes, it’s too bad I’m alone. I might have taken the rest of my veils off for my new husband.”

  “Damn it, Seraphim!”

  “Do I win?” she asked, turning to Hades.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” She turned out the light.

  “Sex isn’t always going to get you your way, you know. I’m the Devil. I’m slick. I got game.”

  Seraphim smirked. “Of course, you do, sweetheart. You just come over here and show me. That’s right.” She patted his hand and spoke as if to a child.

  “You should know better than to challenge me,” Hades warned.

  Seraphim rolled over halfway and gave him a saucy grin over her shoulder. “Should I?” she asked with a giggle. “Maybe you better explain why again. Or better yet, show me.”

  He did exactly that.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  A Tighter Knot

  Grace was still watching Caspian sleep. It was just as unacceptable as ever, even though she didn’t have to worry about asking him to save her son’s life. That was both a blessing and a curse.

  Thinking of Nikoli caused a tightness in her chest that she imagined would always be there. She knew it wasn’t rational to still feel pain for someone who’d never existed, but he’d been real enough to her. She supposed that was the point of the spell.

  She rested her hand on Caspian’s chest where his heart beat in a strong, regular rhythm. She liked the feel of it under her hand, liked the way it sounded. She’d noticed lately that her own heart hadn’t sounded so strong, but she didn’t worry because she didn’t feel any different. It still beat, if slowly, quietly, as if she were sleeping and dreaming of soft things.

  But change was coming. She could feel the rush whenever Caspian was inside her, and she knew the time for a choice was approaching. She was losing some of her humanity, and she might yet choose to be a demon.

  Grace rested her head where her hand had been, so she could listen to the sure, confident thud of his heart. She wasn’t sure what it meant, this pounding in Caspian’s chest, but she was glad that he was experiencing it. For some reason it made her feel closer to him.

  She kissed the edge of his jaw, rubbing their cheeks together. He tasted different now—no less tantalizing, but different. The salt of his skin, even the scent of him had taken on different aspects. She moved to kiss him on the mouth and was surprised to find he tasted like steak—steak in a can that had been left out in one-hundred-degree heat for a week. Yuck.

  He made a sound of pleasure and tightened his arms around her. Securing her ass against his thighs, he locked her into a kiss even as she turned her head and struggled to break free.

  “You’re a naughty little witch to wake me up like that, grinding against me like you’re begging for some action, and then denying me. It’s just cruel.”

  “Caspian, I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it. You need to brush your teeth. For the first time ever, your breath is . . . well, it’s not what I would call minty fresh.”

  He looked scandalized, as if he’d never before had teeth wearing a cashmere sweater and a tongue with a matching muff. Maybe he hadn’t. She wondered why he did now.

  Shrugging, she laughed. “It happens to the best of us. Just brush your teeth. I have an extra toothbrush in the bathroom.”

  “A brush for teeth? Okay.” He didn’t sound as if he thought she was sane, but he went into the bathroom anyway.

  When he’d been gone for longer than a man with a hard-on should be, Grace found him in the bathroom, holding up an object quizzically.

  “Grace, I just don’t think it’s going to work.” He turned it over and over in his hands, holding it up to the light, this way and that.

  She stifled a giggle. “Caspian, that brush is for the toilet.”

  He dropped the thing as if bitten and glanced from it to Grace and then back. “Why would you even have something like that?”

  “To clean with.”

  “The water cleans the toilet when it flushes, doesn’t it?”
he asked. He was beginning to look mortified. And maybe a bit angry.

  “You didn’t put it in your mouth, did you?”

  “No! I was thinking about it, though. You said to brush my teeth!”

  “With a toothbrush, Caspian.”

  “I’ve never actually seen a toothbrush. Well, I’ve seen them on TV, but you know things never look the same in person. This is the only brush it could be. I see your hairbrush, your comb, your curling brush, a brush for your eyebrows, a brush for your eyelashes, but I see nothing for teeth!”

  Grace opened the vanity and pulled out a new toothbrush. She kept some just in case. Not that she’d planned on having a demon sleeping over last time she was at the drugstore. For that reason, they were all pink with little hearts.

  She opened the package and handed over the toothbrush. “I suppose you want me to show you how to use it, too?” She fought a giggle.

  “No. I will read the instructions, thank you. Watching you put something into your mouth will not be productive. Not in the way you want, anyway.”

  “Why not—? Oh.” Grace blushed. “Okay, well, if you need any more help, just yell.” She went back out.

  In the living room she waited, but the sounds he made almost forced her to go back in and check on him. When he came out, he smiled. “Grace, I like this toothbrushing. It feels very nice.”

  She laughed and moved into his arms. “Now you can kiss me.”

  “I might need to brush my teeth again,” he was saying. “I could do that all day.”

  “I’ve created a monster!” she said. “Too bad. He’ll have to champ at the bit, because I’ve got other plans for that mouth.”

  Grace tilted her chin up to meet his lips and squealed a little as his hands found the waist of her jeans. Usually Caspian just magicked her naked, but she’d always wanted him to strip her with his hands. She was getting her wish.

  The heat of his fingers through the fabric was delicious, especially moving ever closer to her flesh. It was such a tease! The palm of one hand slid over the ball of her shoulder and pushed the strap of her tank down. Every contact sent a new shiver down her spine, and when his fingers grazed the edge of her breast, her nipples tightened in response.

  Caspian hooked his thumbs through the belt loops of her jeans and tugged them down. His fingers trailing lightly over her mound, he knelt in front of her and hooked her leg over his shoulder. She was kind of impressed that he would risk putting his face back down there, what with everything that had happened. Not that she was complaining. Far from it. The sensation was rapturous.

  Grace couldn’t stand up any longer. She wanted to lie down, but she also wanted to bring him the same pleasure he brought her. He always made sure that she came first, and she wanted them to come together, so she unhooked her leg from around his shoulder and pushed him onto his back. It was a good thing she had long legs, because straddling his wide chest was quite the feat. Like she had during their first encounter, Grace rocked forward on her knees and worked herself back against him so he could continue his work while she did, too. That time she’d managed to crack him first.

  She rested her weight atop him and used one hand to guide his cock into her mouth. She traced her tongue around the base of the shaft and up to the head. Then she took it as deep as she was able into her throat, suckling the head, laving the entire surface with her tongue, and paying special attention to each ridge and valley.

  The speed and intensity of his mouth matched hers. He seemed to be following her lead, so if she wanted him to flick his tongue across her clit faster, she did just the same to the head of his cock. And whenever she took down the full length of him, he did the same with her clit.

  Grace loved the silky feel of him against her lips, loved watching his sac tighten as he fought not to come. Inside her mouth his engorged cock became even more swollen, and his fingers dug into her hips. But he was working her, too, and she was just about to burst. She rocked into his movements, grinding herself against his mouth as he pulled her closer. Continually, she worked his cock, but the need to come was testing her resolve.

  She was about to come, but with each stroke, she was sure the next one would send him over the edge. Caspian bucked against her. His balls were so tight, his cock so hard in her mouth, Grace thought she might win. She had a chance. He was resilient, though, fighting her talented mouth and hands with his own. At last she decided to let him win.

  She felt a familiar starburst inside her. Caspian kept licking, kept pushing deeper, even though her womanhood was shuddering against his mouth. She didn’t stop sucking, guessing she could still attain her goal; she wanted him to come in her mouth while she was orgasming, and it looked like it was possible. Grace stroked faster with her hand and kept moving him in and out of her mouth.

  He spilled for her just as she was riding the final waves of ecstasy—but Caspian wasn’t done. His hips bucked a final time; then he guided her movements, turning and positioning her for a kiss. He tangled her hair in his hand and drew her in. And just as she could taste her honey all over his lips, he could surely taste himself. They were sharing each other, and she found the idea more intoxicating than anything else.

  Somehow his cock was hard again. He tried to move her atop him, and she’d come so hard she was fine with whatever he wanted. Demons! Grace didn’t know how he did it, but the heat was building again, though he’d just put out the first fire.

  “Now that it’s work, you want me to do it, is that it?” he teased as she sat motionless astride him. When she just nodded, he obliged by lifting her legs up over his shoulders. But this time, instead of tasting her, he entered her. The angle was impossibly steep, and every thrust hit her core.

  Grace thought she was going to die. She arched up to meet his body, and dark blasts exploded behind her closed eyelids every time he moved. She wanted to open her eyes and look at him, but she couldn’t—couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—all she could do was feel. It was as if the alpha and omega of the Universe was in her quim; every sensation started there and ricocheted through her before ending again where it was born.

  She’d been holding on to his forearms and then his shoulders as he drilled her, but she released him as a last pleasure stole away her strength and voice. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, and a galaxy was born and died in those precious moments. Time stopped, and sensation was all that mattered. They lay spent in each other’s arms, limbs tangled, in the middle of her living room floor.

  After a short but quiet period of luxuriating, Grace roused herself enough to ask, “When this thing with Michael is over, how long will you stay?” It was both her biggest hope and biggest fear.

  “I don’t think I’ll have any choice about that.”

  She fought annoyance. This was what she’d expected from Caspian at the beginning. Lately, she’d had more hope. “Why are you always so freaking cryptic? Can’t you just answer the question?”

  “I’m trying to!” he said. “I can’t go back to Hell because I’m not a demon anymore.”

  The statement took her by surprise. “What?”

  “I don’t have any demonic powers anymore. I’m human.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Grace was quiet for a long moment that seemed to stretch into eternity. Hope flared in her breast. An impossible hope. “Oh. Well, you could stay with me. If you wanted.”

  Caspian’s silence stretched into eternity.

  “You don’t have to answer now. I can’t even believe I said that. Stupid idea, just forget it.” All her words were bursting free in a rush.

  “Grace, why don’t we talk after I take care of Michael?”

  “Oh, you can’t have anything to do with Michael. Not now.” Grace didn’t want him anywhere near that bastard Grigorovich.

  “Why not?”

  “You just said that you’re human!”

  Caspian shrugged. “I’m not going to magick him anymore, Grace. I’m going to ki
ll him.”

  “But you’re human,” Grace repeated.

  “You keep saying that as if it makes a difference.”

  “It does make a difference! Caspian, he could kill you.”

  “What sort of man would I be if I couldn’t protect my woman just because I don’t have demon magick? I wouldn’t deserve you. I’ll be worthy, Grace. I promise you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  A Troll a Day

  Nadja Grigorovich had just put her schedule on fast-forward. The troll she’d gorged on earlier had filled her to the brim with magick, sating the dark beast that dwelled where her soul had been and that was now always looking for something to gnaw on. Sated it for the nonce. She just might have to eat a troll every day, because she felt so lovely. They would always be on the menu when she became the Baba Yaga—an event that had been moved forward to tonight.

  At her son’s bar, Nadja sensed demon magick all around. The doors opened after she blasted them with a shot of her own power. The mighty hammer of her will was unstoppable.

  She did not like what she’d found inside. Not one bit. She’d raised her son better. The bar was empty other than Michael; his head was in his hands and he had two empty bottles of vodka on the table before him. His hair was wild and greasy, and he looked like he hadn’t slept for days. His eyes were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles, and he was sloppy drunk.

  One of the bottles went sailing past her head, and exploded into a thousand shards on the wall behind her.

  “Get out. You’re not real.”

  She ignored this. “Where is Grace?”

  “How the fuck should I know?” he said, taking a drink from a third bottle that sat on the booth bench next to him.

  “It’s your job to know, at least if you still want to be a demon.”

  “Mamulya?” Michael asked. He was really fucked up. He hadn’t called her anything but Nadja since he was six. “I missed you, Mamulya. My heart is full to see you.”

  Nadja raised a brow and wondered if she slapped the spit out of his mouth whether anything he’d learned would come back to him. Maybe he’d remember where he’d hidden his balls. She was tempted to call and ask Grace to get them out of her purse. Whatever had happened to the delightfully menacing bastard she’d left behind, and who was this needy little bitch who had taken his place?