Chapter 15
This is not how I thought tonight would go.
In fact, ever since I crashed into Mari’s world, things have been wonky.
The contentment I once felt with my life has fled along with most of my sanity.
I used to be confident in my decisions, fulfilled in my role in Hell.
The moment I blasted out of her closet, the stability I once felt dissolved with the clouds I created.
I should go—leave her to her night. She has her friend, who might be her lover, to take care of her.
Checking on Omen should be my first priority—my only priority.
There’s no logical reason for me to stay.
Except I can’t walk away. It could be because I’m worried about her or that I want her to get home safely. I’d be lying to myself.
I still remember the feel of her in my arms. Her touch has imprinted itself into my very being.
Walking away means never experiencing her skin against mine again.
It means leaving her to fate. I was never very good at trusting Providence at the best of times.
Believing her to take care of one little spitfire of a witch? Yeah, no.
Shaking my head, I trail after Mari. She’s frozen on the edge of the dance floor.
She throws back her head, finishing her drink.
When I asked her how many she had, it wasn’t to shame her, though she seemed to take it that way.
I’ve had drunken revelries with witches before, and they go from having a nice little buzz to puking extremely quickly.
Mari’s hips sway to the beat of the music. When she lifts her friend’s drink to her lips, I push past the group of people streaming toward the stairs. Even if she isn’t close to the edge, I need to be there just in case.
A server stops next to her, and Mari beams at him while she sets her empty glasses onto the tray.
The man says something and Mari laughs, then shakes her head.
Jealousy curls in my gut and cements my feet to the floor.
Mari isn’t mine. She’s free to do whatever she wants.
Since I can’t force myself to leave, I should hang back.
Keeping myself at a distance while making sure she’s safe is better than acting like a possessive lover.
Instead of listening to my better sense, I stomp forward.
Humans scatter from my path as my magic snakes through their legs.
I’m going to have so much paperwork if I get back to Hell.
Ludovic will have my ass for interfering with humanity.
This may be small, but he’s a stickler for the rules.
Maybe I can hide behind Triton. He’s been noticeably absent, though.
I reach for Mari as she attempts to slip into the crowd. She squawks yet doesn’t push me away. She glares at me over her shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she demands.
“You want to dance? Fine. We’ll dance.”
She rolls her eyes, and her fingers circle my wrist. “You’re infuriating.”
“I’ve been called many things before but never infuriating.” I lean down and whisper in her ear. “Won’t you feel safer grinding that perfect little ass on me instead of some asshole who thinks his dick is the greatest gift to women?”
“I’m not admitting that, but I won’t stop you if you come with me,” she says stubbornly.
“Good girl,” I murmur, and she shivers. I tuck away that little piece of information for later.
While witches and demons don’t usually hook up, I’m done resisting her.
Not that I tried very hard before. She’s too perfect, too enticing.
If I’m not careful, she’ll be my downfall.
I’m not sure I particularly care, though.
For now, I’m going to enjoy being with her while I don’t feel like shit.
I’ll deal with Omen and Providence and my curse tomorrow. Or the next time I’m in Hell.
I bury my face in her neck and spear my magic out to create a path. If I’m not careful, someone will spot my mask slipping and we’ll be in trouble. I’m not ready to make a mad dash for the exit just yet.
She strains against me, and I lead us toward the middle of the crowd. I spot another witch among the humans, her skin glittering in the party lights flashing over the throng. This must be the infamous Percy. Witches aren’t hard to spot when you know what to look for, and Percy isn’t any different.
The gap closes behind us, leaving us with a bubble of space and I force us to stop.
Percy’s eyebrows climbs higher, disappearing under her swooping bangs.
Her gaze snaps to Mari and she presses her lips together.
Mari does a weird flopping thing with her hand, and I can feel her roll her eyes.
Mostly because her entire body tries to roll with them. A grin splits my face.
Mari tips her head back and gestures me down. I duck closer and her lips brush my ear. If she feels my cock hardening against her back, she doesn’t give any indication.
“Percy’s my best friend. Be nice.”
I turn my head, our mouths almost touching, and her eyes grow wide. “Are you fucking her?”
I meant to be more tactful when I asked. Subtly isn’t in my repertoire tonight. Besides, she probably wouldn’t pick up on it in her tipsy state. She shakes her head, her brows pulling low. Realization dawns and she grins.
“Are you jealous?”
“Nope. Just wondering,” I mutter, though I don’t think she hears me over the music.
The lie sits on my tongue as she turns back to Percy. I press a light kiss to her neck, then straighten. I don’t know why I did it, but the taste of her washes away the falsehood. It takes all my focus to empty my mind and not whisk her away.
Percy scowls at me, though that’s not surprising. To her, I look like some random man Mari picked from the crowd. With my arm around her waist and her relaxed state, I’m sure this doesn’t look good.
Unless she knows I’m a demon.
That would complicate things. Most witches know more than Mari does about us, but they also don’t like us very much.
There’s a fraught history between our kinds.
If Percy’s been taught any of the saga, she’s sure to attack me.
I don’t know how Mari will react to that.
Being put between her best friend and me, she’s sure to pick her friend. I’d expect no less.
“We should dance,” I murmur into her ear.
Her hips are already swaying, keeping time with the music swirling around us. A man comes up behind Percy and lightly touches her arm. They exchange a few words, and her hands end up behind his neck while his hands fall to her hips.
As Mari moves, her ass grinds into my cock.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I’m going to end up throwing her over my shoulder and taking her someplace more secluded.
The alley didn’t seem too dirty. I doubt she’d appreciate fucking there, though.
Like hell would I take her in the bathroom.
Only assholes and degenerates fuck women in a public toilet.
Then again, I’ve probably had dirtier experiences.
Mari doesn’t deserve something quick and dirty. She’s worth more than that. She deserves candlelight and flower petals and wooing. So much fucking wooing. Except I don’t know how to woo a witch.
Mari turns and presses her palms to my chest. I wish she was gazing at my actual form instead of this skinsuit I hastily threw on. She raises an eyebrow as her body slithers against me. Her tits brush against me, and my cock hardens even more, though I didn’t think it’d be possible.
She says something, but it’s too quiet—too slurred—for me to understand.
Those drinks are finally hitting her. My main job won’t be dancing, it’ll be keeping her upright.
With her flushed cheeks and pert nose, I don’t think I’ve seen a sight more adorable.
She scowls, only endearing her to me more.
If I’m not careful, I’ll fall hard for her.
It wouldn’t be so bad. Until she rejected me.
Or I was called to Hell once more. If I can’t break this curse, I’ll end up bouncing around dimensions, leaving her for days, weeks, months.
No one should live like that. Always waiting for someone to come home.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist her.
Especially with the way she’s moving against me.
I get lost in the music, in the thrumming of bass within my blood, in her glittering gaze.
It’s not until Percy’s waving her toward the edge of the dance floor I let her go.
Trailing behind, I stand just out of earshot while the friend sends me dirty looks.
When she leaves with the guy she was dancing with, I’m surprised.
Mari smiles lazily at me. “You’ll take me home, right?”
I nod, then lead her outside into the cool night air.
She fans her face and lets out a deep sigh.
When she wobbles, I wrap an arm around her waist and guide her into the alley.
I have no idea if I’ll be able to transport her through the void.
It might reject us, throw us out into some desolate wasteland.
Or we could end up right where we’re supposed to be.
“I don’t know how my curse—”
She sways in my hold, her eyes already shut. “Don’t care. Home, please.”
I exhale heavily, then scoop her up. The last thing I want is to lose her in the darkness. Especially while she’s drunk. With a whispered prayer to whichever deity’s turn it is to watch over the void, I step into the shadows.
My muscles sag when we’re dropped into her living room. Mari mumbles, cuddling closer to my chest. I make my way toward her bedroom in the dark. Tonight didn’t go the way I’d expected. I got what I wanted, though.
For a moment, I captured joy in my hands. I don’t know what true happiness feels like, but dancing with Mari came pretty fucking close. Ending the night tucking her into bed feels appropriate. At least I didn’t get called to some random corner of Hell.
I spend a bit too long staring at her while she sleeps. When I turn to go, her hand catches mine and I glance back.
“Are you leaving?” she mumbles. I’d planned on it. Omen needs help, and Clara probably isn’t doing much better. Triton’s been missing for a minute, and Ludovic is acting weird. Add in the issues I need to sort out with my sister and my plate is full.
She huffs when I don’t answer and peeks at me from beneath heavy lids. “Stay. I don’t want to be alone.”
I lean over her and whisper, “I’ll take the couch.”
When I try to leave, though, she tugs once more. “With me.”
I can’t deny her, especially when she slowly blinks at me, anticipation and vulnerability resting in her eyes.
She expects me to tell her no. She’s probably used to not getting what she wants.
Pretty sure she said she never goes clubbing and she missed going out.
The words were slurred, though, so I can’t be sure.
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
I swallow hard as I glance around for a place to sit. She tugs, her nails digging into my palm, and my resolve crumbles. When I crawl in next to her, she whines, yanking on the comforter under me.
“You’re going to be my downfall, spitfire,” I mutter, and she snorts.
“Just get under the covers. We’ll pretend this never happened tomorrow.”
She curls up next to me, pressing her ass into my hip. This is going to be a very long night. After another ten minutes of her wiggling and me staring at the ceiling, I let out a low growl. She freezes, then glances over her shoulder.
“Did you just growl at me?”
“If you keep moving, neither of us will get any sleep,” I snap.
Her lips curve into a sly grin, and I brace myself. “Maybe I don’t want sleep.”
“You’re drunk. Not just drunk—witch drunk. Which is arguably worse than regular drunk. Good decisions are never made while fueled by alcohol.”
She pouts, whether to guilt me or because she’s genuinely hurt, I don’t know. The way she’s acting doesn’t seem like her. She’s sassy and fights me at every turn. She doesn’t pout when she doesn’t get her way.
“Fine. But if I wake up in the morning and you’re gone, don’t bother coming back.”