Chapter 7
A Worthy Opponent
Sepher
Damn the human to my Hell and to all the others. I curse her under my breath, alarmed by recent developments.
I want to have sex with the little witch. I want to ram my cock inside her, between her lithe legs. At least my cock does, especially when her taste is ripe and fresh in my mouth and on my tongue. I have never wanted to mate before. The desire has made me restless. Parched.
It’s true, I need her to get more water, but now it’s for both of us. She must remain as hydrated as I am, if not more so, so that I may take my fill from her during the remainder of our time together.
But she has yet to return since I foolishly thrust her away from me in my overwhelm, and the sky is becoming darker and more golden.
Once again—and for the second time today—I am wondering where my human has gone, and why a creature such as I feels compelled to wait for her to return.
If she does not do so soon, I will have no choice but to go out and find her.
Although I can be quite patient when I wish to, humans have short lifespans and die easily, and at the hand of any number of ridiculous things.
If I do not see her soon, I will have to assume that she needs saving—or is already dead.
The alternative is that she fled, which makes no sense for a witch who has defenses of her own, even a weak one.
She knows now that she has no reason to fear me.
Though she might have fled for other reasons, as I haven’t heard a single sound from outside the door since her disappearance.
With these thoughts in mind, I waste no time testing how much the boundaries have weakened, sending out my fins and tentacles to poke and probe at them.
I work on making the last of the feeble barrier unsustainable, wearing down the remaining residue of magic with willful jabbing, until there is nothing left to keep a fish contained, let alone a demon.
To my utter chagrin, the only way to follow her is to unceremoniously drag my body along the floor.
I am glad, at least, to be able to escape from the overly pungent lemon scent in the air that not even the breeze has fully been able to dissipate.
I am not a fan of scents, and certainly those from human chemicals are amongst the worst. I will avoid them in the future.
It will be no extra trouble; I already avoid everything else.
I’m barely out of the room and am already thirsty, growing ever more desperate to be within water again. Drinking it is enough to satisfy me for a time, but it will never be the same as submerging completely within it. Water is my home.
Like Grace. Having her in my grip is satisfying in a primal way, but it will be far better to sink within her, water and her body alike, my own elements…
Yes, I could technically leave. Return to my ocean. But I am not yet done with Grace, even if she thinks she is done with me.
And unless she or someone else exorcises me, I don’t have to leave at all. I can embed myself in this world and go after claiming her soul. I just need to make sure not to hurt her, even by accident. I could end her life with a withering look if I were to let my abilities unfurl completely.
It’s a good thing I’ve grown so fond of her and our bargains.
My sister has taken human lovers and spouses. She always leaves them alive in the end, going so far as to keep them alive herself, then letting them go when she is ready. She loves them as much as she abuses them. I understand now.
I claw my body forward, hauling my huge mass down dry, rough carpet, groaning with effort.
The fibers pull the moisture out of my skin and scales.
The fabric abrades my flesh. Shifting from one side to the other, my cock presses into the ground repeatedly, all in an effort not to rub my unequipped hide raw.
By the time I reach the top of the stairs—alarm worsening at being confronted by such an obstacle—I say my first prayer to the Great Lucifer: that no one will ever know that Sepher, Duke of Hell, has fallen so low for the attention of a mortal woman.
Respect would be lost in spades, and my prey would seek to bargain for their lives instead of surrendering outright. It would be a disaster.
I peer down the stairs, then back at my long, muscled tail. In this realm it is more of a hindrance to me than a weapon at my disposal.
Lowering my upper body closer to the floor, I reach over the first stairs to slowly slide my way down.
Every step thumps against my cock, making me groan with discomfort and frustration. It’s appalling how quickly the need to mate with Grace has overcome me. It has been a long time since I have been surprised by anything at all, let alone twice in such a short time.
One, for a human to have the power to summon me… And two, for allowing said human to live, let alone taking a liking to her.
Seeing where the wall ends in a railing that will allow me to look at the floor below, I cringe through the next two steps, dragging my body a little farther along, hopeful Grace will be just beyond and I will catch sight of her.
Lurching forward, I release a hissed groan when my now very sensitive sexual organs smash the edge of the next stair.
As I lower to relieve them and lift my hips with another hiss, a jangling noise sounds from somewhere downstairs.
Pausing to listen—to discover if the source of the noise is Grace—I hear a door open and close. The jangling sound from before loudens considerably.
“Grace?” a female voice calls out. “You’re not answering your phone!”
The woman is met with silence, and I flatten my lips as the sound of her footsteps grows closer. Tensing for her to inevitably come upon me and my large black mass of tail, scale, and fang, I brace to frighten this new human away so I may get back to locating mine.
Where is mine?
“Grace, where are you?” the woman calls from right around the corner, out of sight.
My Grace is apparently a wanted human.
Not liking the thought, I narrow my eyes and ready myself to scare the way only a demon can, though my muscles strain to move my tail under me.
The mass of my lower appendage slides along the wall it’s already upon and goes no further.
I crane my neck to look over my shoulder to judge how much space I have, only to discover how utterly ridiculous I look.
“Grace?” the woman calls out, walking past the stairs and deeper into the house. “Grace?” she calls out again.
“Mom! I’m so sorry!” Grace finally responds, her steps quick across the floor after opening a door deeper in the house.
Grace’s mother. So that is who has invaded.
“Oh, thank god, there you are. You were making me scared!”
“My phone got wet and I couldn’t turn it on.”
“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry. I’m sure your dad and I can replace it.”
“It’s fine, but Mom, you didn’t need to come down here. I’m about to finish up. I was planning on stopping over anyway to let you know on my way home.”
“You know I couldn’t leave you to clean up all by yourself. Why didn’t you just call me on the house phone? You’re doing me a big favor. It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t come over and help as soon as I could.”
“Yeah, but you’re paying me for it,” Grace says, laughing. Despite her cheer, it is clear to me that she wants her mother gone. Good for her. So do I. “You know I could always use the money.”
“Speaking of which, how’s that going? You know Dad and I could—”
“It’s going fine,” Grace interrupts. “Anyways, I’m just waiting for the laundry to finish, so there’s nothing much else to do except make the beds. Sorry you came all the way out here, but everything’s already done.”
“I’m glad the witches didn’t mess up the place too badly. They were kind enough on the phone.”
“They left a book behind and some ritual trash in the master bathroom.”
“Oh… What kind of book?”
“I’m not sure. It had a few pictures in it, but it didn’t look like a witch’s diary, just a book.”
“Hmm. Okay.”
“It’s on the kitchen counter if you want to call them about it.
So dinner tonight?” Grace asks, talking fast, and for the first time in the conversation I wonder if she’s going to tell her mother about me.
Why wouldn’t she if her mother is a witch too?
But as they continue to talk, she continues to pretend as if I am not here.
I can only surmise she does not want her mother to find out about me.
My annoyance is stemmed only by the fact that I do not want Grace’s mother to find out about me either.
I can tell she’s a more seasoned witch than Grace and may send me back to Hell before I intend to go.
Besides, I am not at my best at the moment. I look over my shoulder and snarl at my awkward positioning, trying to make it less awkward by shifting my fins without making too much noise.
“We would always love to have you. I’ll call your dad and let him know. Which reminds me, he wants me to grab his blue suit before I leave.”
“What? Why does he need the suit?”
Footsteps head my way. “A fundraiser at the Dalace’s next weekend. He wants to get it dry cleaned beforehand.”
Another set of footsteps follows quickly after. “I’ll go grab it.”
Realizing I’m about to be discovered, I arch upward and shove my body back up the stairs, cursing vehemently in my mind.
“Nonsense, I need a few things myself too.”
“No, no, let me!” Grace insists. “There’s still some cleaning to do up there.”
“I thought you said the cleaning was done.”
This time I arch my tail straight into the air, using the momentum to straighten out and push myself onto the top landing. Unable to hide all my thumping and shuffling noises, I hiss in annoyance, only for it to come out as a dry wheeze.
The two women continue to argue at the bottom of the steps. I throw my tail behind me and turn for the nearest room to my left with an open door. One arm after the other, I head for it, pulling forward on my elbows.
“There’s just a little mess in the master I’m cleaning up with the steamer.”
“Now I think you’re trying to hide something from me, dear. You’re not going to keep me from going upstairs, Grace.”
“Mom, please.”
Footsteps pound the stairs as the vibration of the women’s feet thunder against the floor beneath me.
I lurch forward into the room and shut the door with my fins just as the steps reach the top of the stairs.
Dragging my body deeper into the room, I listen as Grace and her mom walk past the closed door.
With a grunt, I drop tiredly to the floor, stretching my arms out on either side of me, gasping, completely out of water.
I’m going to make Grace pay for this.
Hearing her and her mother continue their conversation in the room down the hall, I strain to understand their garbled words through the walls between us. Unable to do so, I am forced to consider the fact that I’m stuck waiting—again.
Pushing my hand over my cock, I test the damage and come away humming with pleasure instead. I run my hand along my hard length, rounding my girth with my long fingers, exploring the new sensation.
Closing my eyes, my ears prick for her voice.
I’m fine having to wait for her this time around, squeezing myself with my fingers.
Lying back against the side of the plush bed and circling my tip harshly, a groan escapes from my lips.
A splash of black liquid gets on my wrist from my slit.
Lifting it to my face, I lick it off, tasting myself.
When my wrist and hand are clear, I drop my hand back down to my cock and pump out more.
I know exactly what I need to do next.