Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Mal perched on the library's rooftop, peering into the scrying mirror he'd conjured from a stolen coffee mug.
He needed to monitor Ethan’s progress, and this was the best way to do it.
His spell had worked perfectly. Too perfectly, perhaps. He hadn't meant to make Ethan quite so irresistible. Just enough to catch one human's attention, not the entire library staff's.
In his mind, it had all been simpler.
But what was done was done.
If only Ethan had a better handle on all that attention. The mortal really didn’t have to hide himself away the way he did. Even without the help of Mal's spell he was reasonably attractive.
More than that.
The brightness of his soul shone through in the warmth of his brown eyes. Even mortals should have been able to perceive that.
"My, my. What do we have here?"
Mal whirled around. He knew that voice. Smooth as silk, sharp as broken glass. It always cut into Mal like broken glass too. He narrowed his eyes at the other demon.
"Raviel." The name tasted like ash in his mouth. His former colleague materialized from the shadows, perfectly pressed suit making Mal's singed one look even shabbier. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, obviously." Raviel's red tail swished behind him. "Beelzebrock is quite adamant to have you back where you belong."
"I've been summoned." Mal straightened his tie, which immediately started smoking. "Bound by contract. Can't leave until it's fulfilled."
"Really? You? Somebody summoned Hell’s most incompetent demon?" Raviel looked as if he found this very amusing and Mal decided not to mention that Ethan had been trying for Cupid instead… or the dried coriander that had been used in the summoning.
When Mal remained silent, Raviel peered into the scrying mirror. "What a delicious little soul you've found. I must say, I’m almost jealous." He licked his lips.
Something inside Mal’s chest tightened at the thought of Raviel sinking his claws into Ethan.
The mortal was too pure to survive a confrontation with a demon like that.
"Ethan’s my target," he emphasized.
"Oh, yes, of course. I will wait until you screw it up before I swoop in and save the day, don’t worry."
"I’m not going to screw it up."
"Funny. I recall you said the same thing about Father Giovanni." Raviel traced one claw through the mirror's surface, creating ripples in the image of Ethan. "How is that orphanage doing, by the way?"
Mal's tail lashed. "This is different. I’m a changed demon."
"Sure you are. But I'll keep an eye on things, just in case."
"Ethan’s contract is with me . You can't interfere."
"Oh, I won't interfere." Raviel's expression hardened. "I'll watch. And when you fail—because we both know you will—I'll be there to clean up your mess. Like always." He smoothed down his already-perfect tie. "You fucked up my chance at a promotion last century with your little gambling addiction support group idea. Don’t think I forgot. You owe me a juicy soul like this."
Mal opened his mouth to argue, but Raviel had already melted back into the shadows, leaving only the scent of brimstone behind.
The scrying mirror showed Ethan ducking behind a bookshelf, face flushed as he tried to avoid yet another admirer.
Mal suppressed a sigh. If he was hell’s most incompetent demon, Ethan was earth’s most hopeless romantic. What a pair they made.