Chapter 4
HOLLY
Isat at a hand-carved wooden table covered in pages of arcane notes, and across from me was a demon.
A literal, no-shit, demon. Either that or I was still dreaming, and it didn’t feel like a dream.
Didn’t look like one, either, now that he’d switched on the electric lights and I could see him clearly.
Anger had gotten me past the weirdness for a while, but once it faded, I looked at the towering demon lord and didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t even understand what being a ‘demon lord’ meant, and he didn’t seem inclined to tell me. After saying he’d explain, he’d fallen silent.
I didn’t want to break the silence. He hadn’t harmed or threatened me so far, but I was still very aware that I had nowhere to go. A normal human would terrify me in this situation, and Abaddon was neither normal nor human.
Eventually he spoke, his voice slow and deliberate.
“The important thing is, mortal,” he said, then paused as though gathering his thoughts.
I held my silence, despite the questions ‘mortal’ raised.
“The most important thing is that demons do not steal mortal souls. You need not fear that from me, nor that I will kill you. You are a guest. I brought you here freely, and you made no bargain with me. Thus, you owe me nothing, and I demand nothing of you.”
“That doesn’t explain anything,” I pointed out when it was clear he didn’t intend to say more. “What do you want? What are you?”
A look of pain flickered over his face so fast I wasn’t sure I’d seen it. A momentary crack in his impassive expression. “What I want is my business, mortal. From you, however, I want nothing. Stay until the storm has passed, then leave.”
Foggy memories of my car skidding, tumbling, and crashing surfaced, and I winced. “Um. I might have totaled my car, and hiking out of here doesn’t exactly sound safe. I think there’s something out in the woods, a dangerous animal?”
Abaddon pursed his lips. “I thought you might be the one who hit Belial.”
The giant dog looked up at the name. His eyes blazed with infernal flame, his mouth gaped wide to show off rending fangs, and smoke poured from him throat. I stared at the hellhound, frozen, as he got up and stretched.
Then he looked at me, cocked his head to one side, and said wuff. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, instantly undermining the terror he’d inspired in me.
“Aren’t you a cutie?” I said, leaning forward to offer him my hand. The monstrous hound sniffed it, licked it tentatively, turned to Abaddon and said, again, wuff.
The demon grumbled. “What a terrifying guardian you are, Belial. She doesn’t have any treats for you.”
Belial didn’t acknowledge that, he just curled up next to me.
“Despite driving into him, Belial appears to have forgiven you. Now he’ll be annoyed if I let any harm come to you, so I offer you this deal.
“I will make sure you reach safety. Either to your car, if it still functions, or to your cabin, or to a human settlement. In return for that favor, you will agree not to reveal my existence to other mortals.”
That raised more questions. Did specifying a human settlement imply the existence of other, inhuman settlements in the area? When he said mortals, did that mean he was immortal? I put them aside. Those questions were important, but not as important as getting safely home.
“Deal,” I said, wanting that deal arranged before anything else.
“A bargain struck.” His words were formal, hard, and frightening. With one finger, he sketched a sigil in the air, leaving a trail of sparks. It flashed when completed, then vanished. “A bargain bound.”
I stared, wondering if I’d imagined that.
After all, I’d hit my head hard enough to pass out.
I’d be lucky if I got away with a few hallucinations rather than something more serious.
On the other hand, Abaddon had horns, a tail, and red skin.
Why balk at the idea of his conjuring flames and binding contracts?
I pushed away from the table, unable to take it all in. My instinct was to ask questions, which wouldn’t help me absorb anything, and Abaddon’s patience must have limits. It seemed unwise to pester him for details he didn’t want to share.
Instead, I looked around the cabin. There wasn’t much to see. The living area took up most of the space, with a kitchen set up in one corner. Heating came from radiators as well as the fireplace, keeping it warmer than I’d expect. Abaddon had to be spending a fortune on gas for heating.
One door led to a tiny bathroom, and the image of Abaddon squeezing into that shower made me laugh. Then my cheeks burned, and I got out of there quickly. Imagining the demon naked was distracting, confusing, and left me short of breath.
I shook it off as best I could and turned my attention to the building again. There was one more room, a bedroom, and I closed that door as soon as I’d looked inside. There were several reasons I didn’t want to invade his privacy.
The cabin was strange, too normal to be a demon lord’s lair. The carpentry was simple but of good quality, with no drafts getting in. All the furniture looked homemade, crude but solid. I wondered how much of it was Abaddon’s work. Did a demon build his own cabin, or had he bought it?
Some additions were his handiwork, I was pretty sure. Runes carved into the wood marked several surfaces, looking innocuous at first glance. A closer look revealed a faint blue light glowing in each.
Abaddon let me explore, staying at the table and focusing on the papers in front of him. Or rather, pretending to focus on them while watching me. The intensity of his burning gaze drilled into me no matter how much I tried to ignore it, and I wanted to hide myself.
I also wanted to let him stare as long as he liked. The fire, the passion in his gaze was overwhelming, and to have it directed at me was something I’d never experienced.
Eventually, I couldn’t stand the silence anymore, and the questions wouldn’t go away. I had to understand.
“What do you mean when you say you’re a demon?”
He tilted his head to the side, paused deliberately, then sighed. “You will not understand it, mortal. Few can.”
That’s the anger back again. “Try me.”
“Demons, as you call us, are inhabitants of another dimension. Long ago, we mastered the technologies that you think of as ‘magic.’ It is hard work for a demon to exist in your world, and I have been stuck here for longer than you have lived. This is my home, where I should be safe from intrusions.”
He fell silent. I put my hands on my hips and glowered in his direction. “That’s it? That’s your secret I ‘will not understand?’ I’m kind of insulted.”
“I gave you the easy version. Simple enough for a human.”
“Now you’re trying to be insulting.”
He waved that off. “Lack of knowledge is not failure or stupidity. You lack education in our technology, so I offered it in simple terms. That is not an insult.”
Which annoyed me on many levels, mostly because he was right. I tried to put it aside and ask more focused questions.
“So, you’re looking for souls? Are you hoping you’ll get mine?”
He blinked and sat silently for a moment. “Why would I want your soul, human? My greatest desire is for you to leave, but the storm makes that impossible. I am stuck with you for a while longer, and you with me. We shall have to make the best of it.”
“Yeah? What are you up to that you want me gone?”
The pause was tiny, almost unnoticeable. “I simply value my privacy, human.”
He’s lying. I knew that as soon as he spoke, but I didn’t know how to press him. A demon lord hiding in the hills, doing something mysterious with no witnesses? That sounded bad, but being the sole witness he’d have to get rid of afterward sounded worse.
Freezing to death wouldn’t be any better, leaving me stuck here while the blizzard passed. Fuck.
I didn’t want to think about being that, and asking questions wasn’t going well, so I looked for a distraction. Something other than the demon lord whose body made me weak at the knees. Fortunately, another appetite made itself known.
“I need something to eat,” I announced, and my stomach rumbled in agreement. The kitchen area was small but well supplied, and I decided it was breakfast time. “You don’t mind me making myself breakfast?”
Abaddon nodded, watching as I got myself set up.
Then he turned his attention back to his folder of papers covered in strange symbols.
A weird demon language? Or odd scientific notation?
I had no way of knowing, and I didn’t want to risk prying.
He didn’t want to share his secrets, and I remembered what curiosity did to the cat.
I didn’t have nine lives to risk.
Eggs. Milk. Cinnamon and vanilla. All the makings of French toast were there, and I decided I deserved some comfort food.
Mixing up the batter also gave me a chance to spend some nervous energy, and I sawed thick slices off the loaf of bread I found.
There’d be enough for both of us, and I hoped that would ease my guilt at imposing on Abaddon.
Guilt might be the wrong word for that emotion. I didn’t want to owe a debt to a demon, and if making him a meal would pay back some of what I owed him, I’d take it.
As the bread slices soaked in the batter, I grinned to myself, certain that this was about to be delicious. I poured oil into the skillet and turned on the stove to heat it.
With a whoosh, black fire erupted around the pan, and I screamed, jumping backward. Everything moved in slow motion as the skillet slipped from my fingers and struck the edge of the stove. Oil splattered, black flames caught, and I had neither time nor space to dodge.
A wall of red muscle appeared between me and the stove. I didn’t see Abaddon arrive, he was just there as if by magic. Maybe it was magic. I don’t know.
The demon lord snatched the skillet out of the air, blocked the oil with his bare chest, and switched off the heat, all in one smooth motion before I knew what was happening.
Time snapped back to normal as his tail grabbed hold of my wrist, controlling my jump-turned-fall and lowering me to sit on his kitchen floor. His attention stayed on the fire, but he spared enough time to save me from a bruised butt.
Shame he couldn’t do anything about the bruised ego.
“Fuck.” Hardly an elegant response, but the only thing that came to mind.
Abaddon ignored my profanity, dropped the skillet back on the stove, and pulled a fire blanket out to throw over the flames. Only after the fire was out did he turn to look down at me, his burning eyes fixed on mine and his godlike body splashed with burning oil.
I had, in previous kitchen misadventures, splashed myself with a few drops of hot oil. The memory hurt, and I couldn’t imagine how sore the big splashes must be. Eyes wide, I stared up at him. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, shit, do you need first aid?”
“Huh.” It took me a moment to identify that sound. Not anger, not pain. A chuckle.
“Are you laughing at me?” It wouldn’t be the first time my kitchen-curse amused someone, though this would be the first time that someone should have needed medical attention.
“Holly. I am a demon lord, come to your world from the city of Dis.” As he spoke, Abaddon lifted a dishcloth to wipe the mess from his abs. I saw no sign of the burn I’d expected. “If you think a cooking fire gets hot enough to harm me, then you have yet to grasp the situation.”