What Not to do When Wooing a Witch (Witchy Demon #2)

Chapter 1

Acloset would be a horrible place to die.

No windows. No room. No exit. At least not in this particular closet. I’ve searched for a handle, but there isn’t one. Door, yes. Knob, no. A sliver of light filters through a gap by the floor.

The first time I was here, I tried to peek underneath. Instead, I got stuck between the door and the wall. and had to dislocate my shoulder to get out. Thank fuck I’m a demon so the pain didn’t last long. Hurt like a son of a bitch when I did it, though.

I used to enjoy my time here. It’s cozy, albeit a little cramped with the boots and random boxes.

I swear I sat in a cauldron once. My ass slipped right inside, and it took a bit of maneuvering to get out.

I thought about calling for Omen, but he’s busy with his witch. Or rather, avoiding his witch.

I sigh, leaning against the fluffiness of a winter coat.

At least, I assume it’s a winter coat. Doesn’t really matter to me as long as it’s soft.

My eyes flutter closed, and I let my mind wander.

Hopefully nothing weird will happen this time around.

I’ve only been sucked in here a couple times, but I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

Counting in my head to keep track of time isn’t helping my boredom.

Time topside isn’t the same as in Hell, which makes it hard to figure out.

A couple minutes in a closet isn’t so bad.

Except it’s getting a bit exhausting being summoned up here, then thrown back into Hell.

And half the time I’m so disoriented, I have no idea where I am.

If I’m being honest, I fucking hate this.

My head won’t stop spinning. I’m perpetually exhausted.

My magic’s on the fritz and I feel like I’m losing my mind.

These moments in between being tossed around dimensions are a little reprieve from the disorientation.

I just wish I had longer to recharge. Eventually, I’ll flame out.

I suppose that’s more of an Omen thing. I’d be more likely to shock out—is that even a thing?

I’ve never been pushed far enough for my magic to overwhelm me.

I wonder what it’s like…not enough to actually try it.

“Fuck,” I groan as a familiar swoop in my gut hits me. Before I know it, I’m whisked away into the void. I groan again, though no sound comes out. In here, I’m nothing more than energy. My magic is the only thing keeping me in some semblance of order.

After what feels like an eternity, I’m dropped into a cage. My muscles scream and my head swims. My knees buckle and I crumple to the dusty floor. At least I’m in Hell. I remember being sent down here for something or someone, though I don’t remember what. Or who, I suppose. The place is empty now.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I wheeze as I push myself upright. I kick the door to the cage, but it doesn’t budge. Leaning against the wall, I close my eyes and focus on my breathing.

This summoning thing is for the birds. It’s disorienting and painful, though not surprising.

I spent a couple years in the void, trying to figure out the different dimensions, what it was made of, what it did to demon bodies.

I didn’t discover the meaning of life or anything like that.

I did find that magic linked us to our souls, keeping us somewhat intact.

At least enough to get us to our destination.

Problem was, that discovery led me down the rabbit hole of why demons have souls, which led to how soulbounds work.

From how Omen’s acting, I wonder if that little tidbit will come in handy sooner rather than later.

I’ve been dealing with this for…weeks? Months?

With the time difference between Hell and topside, I have no idea.

I just know I can’t take it much longer.

A nervous energy runs down my arm, and my fingers flicker.

I shake out my hands and sparks fly everywhere.

They fizzle out, leaving a soft pulse of electricity behind.

I glance down and sigh at my glowing hands.

I’m fucking cursed. That’s the only explanation.

My head thumps back and my mind shuts down. I don’t know how long I’m out before a clanging in my head jolts me awake. When I pry my eyelids open, Omen paces in the cage with me.

“Omen?” I croak, and his shoulders tense. He’s been riding the edge for weeks now. One of these days he’s going to explode more than he did when I accidentally touched his little witch.

“Start talking, Dimitri,” he growls.

“Uh, welcome to the cage?”

He snorts, not bothering to face me. His fingers wrap around the rusty bars, and his knuckles turn white. Maybe he’ll burst into flames and melt the metal.

“What a clever name. Who thought that one up?”

“Triton, of course. He sent me down here to…get someone. Then I got that weird tingly feeling again, and bam, I was in a closet. Spent a couple minutes in there, too terrified to come out on account of what happened the last time I was in a random person’s house, which wasn’t so random seeing as how it was your—”

“Get to the point,” he snaps.

I press my lips together and adjust my shoulders to ease the ache.

I wasn’t going to call her his girlfriend or anything.

He’s clearly still pissy about my little side quest into her house.

It’s not like I had a choice. Someone’s been tossing me across dimensions, and I don’t know how to stop it.

Maybe I should ask his witch about it. She seems to have enough witchy knowledge if she figured out how to summon a demon.

“Okay, touchy. After that, I felt the tug again, and bam, I was in here. ’Cept now the door is locked and I’m on the other side of it. Don’t know what happened, but I’ve just been waiting for someone to come get me. I thought it’d be quick.”

I’m not about to tell him I passed out. He’s got enough on his plate without dealing with my problems. Besides, between the two of us, I’m the laid back one—the one who goes with the flow and doesn’t get bogged down with all the extra stuff.

He turns, his brows pulled low. “How long have you been down here?”

I shrug. “Don’t know. I keep getting pulled back to the human realm. It was disorienting. I’d come back and eventually I couldn’t handle the magical trip. I’d pass out, come to, get shoved into limbo—”

“I get it. You don’t have to overexplain everything, Dimitri.”

I wince, then shoot him a tight-lipped smile. It’s hard to remember he doesn’t like excessive chatter. With him being gone so much, though, I don’t really have anyone else to talk to. Most of the others give me a wide berth. Never bothered to figure out why.

Omen’s hand flutters by his side as I push to my feet. “You know I didn’t mean—”

“I know. Forget sometimes. Mind going a mile a minute. Sometimes it’s hard to slow down. Take out the unimportant bits. You know,” I mutter. He doesn’t need me piling on when he’s clearly going through the shit.

“I do.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “So, knock it the fuck off. How did I get down here?”

I shrug again. He won’t like my answer, anyway. I don’t even know how I got down here. Him being sent to the cage doesn’t make any sense either.

“Maybe you should flame out. See if that pops the lock or something.” My knees buckle, and I cover my faulty bones by leaning against the wall. I wonder if he can see the exhaustion.

“You could have shocked the shit out of it.”

I hold up my hand, and the soft glow from earlier weaves through my fingers and pulsates slightly. Apparently, my little nap didn’t do much to fix my magic or my exhaustion. Eventually, I need to figure out if I’m actually cursed.

“Pretty, but not particularly useful,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Careful, or I’ll steal your girl.” I wrinkle my nose. “Too soon?”

He huffs, turning back to gaze through the bars. “Be glad she’s not here or we’d have more trouble than we can handle.”

A soft meow pierces the silence stretching between us. Omen groans, though I can’t figure out why until I spot the small cat padding from the shadows. Squished face, stubby legs, and fluffy black fur with white paws. Fucking adorable.

“Look how cute she is,” I coo. Omen mutters something, but I’m too distracted by this creature. “Shit. Omen? I think she’s hurt?”

He rushes over, though I don’t know what he’s going to do for the thing.

She doesn’t look like a typical cat. She winds around me, and I turn with her, then run my fingers through her fur.

Omen drops to his knees behind me and I tense.

He’s not a cat person, and I’d rather he not punt the little thing into a black hole.

“Where?” he snarls as he manhandles her.

“She looks like she ran into something. Cats’ faces aren’t supposed to look like that,” I mutter as she meows. I snatch her from him and cuddle her to my chest.

“First of all, it’s a he. Second, that’s just his face. I think Clara rescued it or something.”

I snort, then swallow down my humor. “Let me get this straight, your little witch has a cat, which probably is a familiar—”

“Or she rescued it.”

“You’re freaking out about it being hurt, but you hate cats. And you’re still clinging to the fact you don’t care about Clara?”

He’s too deep to keep thinking he isn’t tied to her.

She was able to summon him for a reason.

We’re too far up the chain of command for things like this to happen.

I don’t fully understand why he’s fighting it.

If I’d found someone who wanted me around, I’d cling to them.

Probably too much, and then they’d kick my ass out when I smothered them with my constant presence and excessive chatter.

Omen huffs, glancing off into the corner I curled up in however long ago. “I never said I didn’t care for her.” His nostrils flare as my gaze catches on someone loitering on the outside of the cage. “I’m just acutely aware of the risks of getting involved with a witch.”

“Uh, Omen?” I grimace when Clara steps into the muted light just outside the bars.

Of course he doesn’t heed the warning in my tone. “None of which has anything to do with her personally. A witch doesn’t belong in Hell. If she’d just get rid of the summoning circle…fuck, if she never chalked it in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Hurt flashes across her face before she lets out a soft sigh.

Omen tenses, fear and hopefully some shame build in his dark eyes.

The last place I want to be is here while he bumfuddles his way out of this situation.

I have no idea how Clara got down here. It’s not like Hell has public tours.

Half the time the new crop of demons who come up get lost within the various dimensions down here. Then again, Clara isn’t a normal witch.

When Omen doesn’t move, I nudge him with my foot and hiss his name.

Pain stabs into my temple, and I dig my fingers into the cat’s fur.

He doesn’t seem to notice. Clara’s talking, but I can’t make out the words.

There’s a high-pitched whine pulsing in my head.

Omen grabs the feline from my arms, and I make a sound in the back of my throat.

I don’t think it’s actual words, but he doesn’t stop.

Nausea bubbles in my gut, and I swallow over and over. I’m cursed. It’s the only explanation for whatever the hell is happening to me. Whoever’s fucking with me needs to knock it the fuck off. I’m going to lose myself if I don’t figure this shit out.

Clara’s voice cuts through the pain. “I’m not taking the cat, Omen.”

“I’ll take him,” I croak, and flames burst from the top of Omen’s head. “Or not.”

He drops the cat in my lap once more, and I wonder if I won anyway.

I don’t really have time to take care of a pet, but I could make it work.

Even if he looks like he got stopped by a brick wall to the face.

My head swims and my eyes cross. I pull in several deep breaths, wondering if they’ll notice me if I puke all over the floor.

They’re bickering again, and I tune them out while trying to get my shit together.

It’s not until there’s a clanking of metal that I focus on them once more.

The door’s open and Clara’s wiggling the handle up and down.

Whether she merely opened it or used some witchy powers, I don’t know.

From the look on her face, I doubt she does either.

I let out a chuckle at Omen’s affronted face.

Electricity zips through my veins, and my stomach flips.

“Well, shit,” I wheeze as the cat jumps from my arms.

Sparks crackle across my skin as I’m shoved into the void once more. My body goes numb, and I barely feel anything when I hit the floor. When my mind shuts down, I embrace the darkness.