Chapter 8
Ishould have known my little witch would tease out my secrets. I suppose they're not really secrets. Granted, I doubt I would open up to anyone else about this. I just wanted a place I could go where nothing would be expected of me. If I have one more person dump a task on my plate, I'll riot.
I swore I'd stay away from her. Lingering, conversing, flirting—all on my list of things to avoid when it came to Clara.
The moment she summoned me, all that went out the window.
I'll break every vow I made while I tried to sleep.
She's too… enchanting. She's somehow bewitched me and I need to figure out how to undo whatever spell she's cast on me.
I had plans to tease it out of her, but tonight I just need a break.
“I didn't think demons just dropped by to chitchat,” Clara says, pulling my eyes back to her.
“They don't. Although, they used to. Back when the world was…slower. We even had friendships with humans. Witches and demons often teamed up when certain events called for it.” I brush invisible crumbs from the counter.
“Was there something you wanted to talk about?”
“Why are you in a shitty mood?” If I can keep the conversation focused on her, I won't have to talk about me.
She sighs, the sound filling the hole in my chest. “I was trying to put together a desk. It was…frustrating.”
“What else,” I demand. Because of course there's more. It's never just about one thing with humans, even witches. They stack their problems one on top of another until the first is no longer visible. They may strip off a few layers and deal with those, yet they never get to the root of anything.
“Why can't it just be the desk?” she snaps. She leans over the counter and snatches up the spell book.
She stalks around the island, clutching the tome to her chest. She disappears into the dining room, and I take a deep breath before following her.
Leaning against the wall, I watch her grumble under her breath as she drops the book onto the table and picks up what looks like an instruction manual.
I'm not about to interrupt her, lest I get snapped at again.
“Perhaps I'm not the only one avoiding things,” I mutter.
“And what are you avoiding?”
“Paperwork, mostly.”
She glances up, her nose wrinkling and her lips twitch.
It's adorable and I have to look away before I comment on it.
She's distracting in a way I'm not used to.
She may be a witch, but she's also a human.
I have to remind myself not to woo her, bed her, and keep her.
No matter how adorable she is, she's still a witch who would take too much of my time.
Then again, she's already doing that even when she's not summoning me.
I shake my head, focusing on my current plan—hiding.
She sweeps her dark hair over her shoulder, making me imagine the strands wrapped in my fist. “Demons have paperwork?”
“And upper level demons. I believe you call them managers here. They're just as annoying down there, always nitpicking their way through things. You didn't exactly help anything, either.”
She tips her head back. “It was the jar, wasn't it? I'm sorry.”
“Not your fault. You merely wanted it opened. It was the easiest summoning I've had in decades,” I say with a chuckle.
“You've had easier ones?” She wraps her arms around her legs and rests her chin on her knees.
My back itches, an ache settling between my shoulder blades.
Hiding my shadows for so long hurts, but usually not this quickly.
I'll have to release some of this pent-up energy soon.
The easiest way would be to form wings. Except that would make me hot, which would then require me to take off my shirt and I don't know if I want to spend the rest of the night half naked.
Especially with how her eyes keep darting to my crotch.
It's been weeks since she saw me naked. Maybe she's been checking me out every time I've been here since and I didn't notice.
I was too busy trying to ignore the pull toward her.
“I had a witch ask to me to gather herbs for him in the forest. No one would go into the trees because of some ancient lore. They said the trees rose up, attacking their ancestors and the woods had birthed some terrifying creature.”
“What kind of creature?” she whispers.
I fight a grin. “I never saw it. They said it would devour their ancestors whole. I thought it was ridiculous.”
“Of course you did,” she mutters, but I can tell she's fighting a smirk. “You don't seem one prone to whimsy or fairytales.”
“You'd be surprised, little witch. Anyway, turns out they were right.”
Her eyes widen. “What was in there?”
“There was a very large clearing in the middle. In the dead of night, something would nest there, making an awful racket.” I fight back a smile as she hangs on my every word. “When I got there, I found a herd of…elk.”
She scowls, shaking her head. “That's not funny.”
“It was a little funny. Of course, they didn't believe me until I sent the elk running out of the forest.”
She presses her lips together and focuses on the instructions again. “Well, that seems like quite a bit more work than opening a jar.”
“What's your issue?”
“Nothing. I'm just feeling sorry for myself.” She gathers some of the tools closer, using the directions to avoid my gaze.
A twinge hits my muscles and I wince. I give up and pull my shirt over my head.
Clara squawks, but I ignore her as I unfurl my wings with a sigh of relief.
Stretching the talons on each tip helps ease the last bit of ache.
Smoke fills the room, wrapping me in a warm blanket of comfort.
Spending so much time topside still drains me.
I thought after my nap and some time in Hell, things would be easier. Apparently not.
“Uh, don't knock my pictures off the wall,” she says.
I glance to my left and find the frames she's talking about. Several humans gathered around a fire, their smiling faces shining with joy. I always envied humans and their ability to capture these moments. There are no pictures in Hell.
“Are these your friends?”
“Yeah. Most of them are married or have moved away. They're on another weekend getaway right now. Taking advantage of the weather and all that.”
Given the look on her face, that's what's bothering her. I could tease out the reasons behind it all, but I doubt she'd open up. Delving deeper into her life might help me find the thread connecting us, though. Clearly, the universe has plans for us. Or this could be someone fucking with me, making me believe we’re linked together for some other purpose when we’re really not. Getting Clara to talk would reveal a lot. Demons aren’t what one would describe as good listeners, especially when it comes to witches.
She mutters under her breath, picking up various pieces of wood and slamming them back down. It's painful to watch her struggle.
When I can't take it anymore, I prowl to her.
Sliding my hands under her arms, I lift her up as she squeals.
I set her down several feet away and quickly drop my hands.
I didn't think through any of my actions and now I'm paying the consequences as I ease into her vacated spot on the floor.
My cock protests, straining against my pants.
My hands tremble and I swallow hard. I keep touching her and every time it backfires on me.
“Go make tea,” I growl while she gawks at me.
I pick up the instructions and squint at the tiny print.
After she walks away, cussing me out as she goes, I toss them aside.
They're indecipherable. Whoever wrote them clearly had no idea how to put a desk together.
It takes me at least another five minutes to figure out which part is the leg and which is the top.
My frustration grows with each passing second.
Clara sets down a mug next to me, the sweet aroma filling the air, and I grunt. I've forgotten most of the customs of witches, but demons don't thank them. Clara doesn't seem to care, though, as she sinks onto the couch with her own mug.
“Where the hell does this piece go?” I mutter more to myself than anything.
“Now do you understand why I was frustrated?”
“If you're going to make snide comments, go away.” I wave my hand at her before attempting to open a bag of tiny screws.
They're probably not small for the little witch, but my fingers are much larger than hers.
I can span her waist—hell, her hips—with both of mine.
My wings quiver with the reminder and I struggle to get my shit together. This was a very bad idea.
“Would you like some help?”
I grit my teeth. “No.”
“You must really hate paperwork if you're willing to put a desk together without me asking,” she says behind the rim of her mug. Her eyes twinkle as she takes a sip.
“I'm missing a meeting as well. Does that help ease your mind?” The tool slips from my grasp as I attempt to fit everything together.
She hums and I work in silence until she clears her throat. “What's the meeting about?”
“Something about the veil thinning. It happens every year. I don't know why they feel the need to gather everyone and talk about it. The instructions don't change. I swear I've been to three thousand meetings and they all say the same thing.”
“Could've been an email, huh?” She laughs lightly, and I glance up at her.
“What's email?”
She shakes her head, a smile playing on her lips. “It's like a note.”
When her tongue darts out to lick the bottom one, I tuck my chin to my chest. I really need to get laid.
Preferably with someone who doesn't summon me every five seconds.
If I sleep with my—the little witch, it'll end up being awkward.
Unless I gave her another sigil so she could summon some other demon.
The thought sends flames licking at my fingertips and I drop the piece of wood I'm holding.