A Demon And His Witch (12 page)

“But aren’t you the one who loves an audience?” And yes, she said it with a straight face.

“Witch.” He said it in a warning tone.

She smirked. “What, demon? Not used to your sex dolls talking back?”

“If you weren’t hiding behind your cat…”

“You’d what? Take me over your knee and spank me?”

“Yes. Then I’d lick those red cheeks. Then your pussy before I tossed you onto your bed and fucked you.”

That threw her for a loop judging by the flare of interest in her eyes and the way she bit her lower lip. “You know what, I’m almost still aroused enough to let you. But, not only will Felipe tear off an important part if you try, we have work to do. This whole daily barbecue thing is getting old real fast.”

Way to slap him with reality, however, she was right. He needed to track those souls for her. Save her from the curse. Buy groceries for a month. Block off the kitty’s access to the apartment. Then he could put his plan into action, a pleasurable plan that would result in chafing in sensitive places and a smile so silly he’d put clowns to shame.

First though, work. Because he couldn’t do a thing until the job was done.

But she is so worth the effort.
And the aching blue balls. Sigh…

Chapter Nine

As they travelled to a bar where Remy’s source claimed some medieval spirit was harassing the girls, she couldn’t help but relive what happened in her bathroom. And she didn’t mean the fabulous climax Remy gave her and the second one that got interrupted.

He’d heard her scream, caught her in the midst of her personal nightmare, and he didn’t run away or wait it out. He held her. Stayed with her while it ran its course, and though his fire demon status protected him from the flames, she still appreciated the gesture. Most males would have walked away.

As if that weren’t astonishing enough, he got angry. She couldn’t deny a certain pleasure in hearing him condemn Francisco’s and the other’s actions, in knowing he wanted vengeance for her death. It made her…like him.

It also made her vulnerable, so that when he kissed her and touched her, she didn’t fight. For the first time in five hundred years, she let a man caress her intimately – and she enjoyed it. Wanted to do it again as a matter of fact.

But I can’t just throw myself at him like some crazed old witch.
Desperate wasn’t sexy, even if that was how she felt. Besides, judging by the way she kept catching his eyes on her – filled with male appreciation and a smoldering heat that promised wicked things – it was only a matter of time before he seduced her again. She just needed to exercise some patience.

She also needed to practice reining in a surprising jealousy. As soon as they walked into the strip joint, with naked breasts hanging out everywhere and more cheeks than she could count with dental floss tucked between them, the green eyed monster had her narrowing her gaze. Something in her posture must have given her away.

Tucking her into his side, Remy dipped his head low enough to murmur. “Sheath your claws, my sexy cougar. These slags can’t hold a candle to you.”

Startled he’d read her so easily, she peeked up at him. He winked. She warmed. And then he ruined the moment. “Of course, I wouldn’t be against you getting a glittery thong and dancing around a pole.”

“In your dreams, demon.”

“You have. And might I say,” he crooned in the shell of her ear, “that your finishing move atop my pole is the best I’ve ever seen.”

Shaking her head at his crude, sexual one-liners – and blushing at the backwards compliment – she left his side and strode into the den of iniquity. Talk about a dump.

On the far edge of the ninth circle, where the lowest of the low lived, any attempts at niceties evaporated. The lighting barely illuminated the smoky tavern, which given how her feet stuck to the floor, probably counted as a good thing. The dancers were listless, their bodies all marred by some type of imperfection, from a lopsided set of breasts, to the legless female who swung around on her arms.

Then again, the patrons weren’t much better. A more disreputable group she’d never seen, and she’d seen a lot as Lucifer’s assistant. The dregs of society seemed to have congregated in this forsaken place – and forgotten to bathe. She made a mental note to have the health inspection unit pay a visit. The dancers deserved better, and as for the men, there were always dirty jobs in need of dispensable crew.

Who cared if the place was a festering plague just waiting to infect? She needed to find Alvaro. It seemed, unlike the previous two souls, he liked his new home in Hell and didn’t stray to the mortal side. He also liked to make a nuisance of himself with girls just trying to eke out a living.

Given Lucifer’s policy on rape – which he considered on a wholly different level than sexual harassment – word moved quickly about the fellow who thought it was okay to pinch and fondle the girls at work despite their repeated ‘No’s. He’d even gotten kicked out of a few strip bars before this one.

And judging by the crack that sounded – a well-deserved slap she’d wager – Alvaro was moments away from getting the bum rush once again.

Given her diminutive height, Ysabel didn’t manage to see her prey until she landed almost on top of him. A taller demon fellow moved suddenly out of the way and brought her in direct view of Alvaro. His eyes widened in shock, but only for a moment before he grinned, displaying a gap toothed mien, which given the state of decay, made her vow to brush her teeth three times a day.

“Hello, Alvaro.”

Unlike her previous two escapees, he didn’t engage her in conversation. Waving goodbye, he slid out of his seat and bolted. As if Ysabel would let him get away so easily.

She took off after him, only to stop short when a large body stepped in her path. His size, while incredible, couldn’t hold a candle to his rancid stench and hairiness. Holding her breath, she tried to veer around the revolting frame, careful not to touch lest she need to cut off her hand to prevent infection, but the idiot in her path jiggled from side to side matching and blocking her attempts to get around.

“Would you move out of my way?” she snapped, glaring up at the brutish male who seemed determined to thwart her.

“You’re new,” the guy possessed of trollish ancestry, or so she assumed given his green hue, flat nose and tusks, stated. “Show me what you got.”

“I’m not a dancer.”

“Don’t care. You’re pretty. I like pretty things,” he rumbled reaching out a paw to grab her.

She evaded his grip, but it didn’t stop him from swiping at her again. The things she had to put up with because she owned two breasts.
Time to show him to respect the ladies.
She chanted under her breath, and waggled her fingers. The massive male in front of her shrank, and shrank, then diminished in size some more until he stood waist high. She crouched in front of him with a smirk.

“Next time a witch tells you to move, don’t talk back.”

“Bitch!” he yelled.

She wiggled her fingers again and he squeaked before running off. But her fiasco with the troll had cost her precious time. Alvaro had fled. He also wasn’t the only one missing.

Just where did my demon guard go?
Remy had also disappeared.
He’d better not have gone off somewhere private with one of those sluts.
Not that she cared. Really. A claim that screamed ‘Lie’ with every stomp she took as she exited the bar.

Hands on her hips she peered up and down the refuse lined street. “Stupid, good for nothing, testosterone laden…”

“You called?” Remy’s query came from behind her.

Whirling, she meant to glare at him, but instead gasped, “You caught him!”

He sure had. Hanging from Remy’s grasp, looking none too happy, was one village drunk named Alvaro. Back in the day, he’d claimed, to all who would listen, that he’d seen her flying her broom and dancing naked around fires. The fact he was a drunken wastrel who barely remembered his own name let alone recalled what happened five minutes previous didn’t matter to the people anxious to condemn her. It just added fuel to the charges against her.

Funny thing though, was the things he accused her of were true. He’d just never actually witnessed them.

“Of course I caught him. While you were busy playing with the patrons and taunting them with what they couldn’t have, I was out earning a kiss.”

“Only a kiss?” she teased, immeasurable happy for some reason that he’d not found a dark corner to screw a slut but instead, kept to their task. And now he wanted a reward,
from me!

“Dammit. I knew I should have held out for more.”

“Argh. Someone get me some ale. The pair of you are making me sick.”

“Shut it,” they both told Alvaro at the same time. Pulling out her tag, she slapped it on his body and waved good bye as he got sucked back to prison.

“I’m surprised you didn’t keep him to question.”

She shrugged. “Why bother? If he’s like the last two, we won’t learn anything. Besides, I believe I owe you a kiss.” Did those wanton words come from her? They did, but she didn’t need to worry if he thought her presumptuous because she no sooner spoke than Remy scooped her into his arms and plastered his lips over hers.

Just as toe curling as before, his embrace woke her body, roused her need. She clung to him, tasted him and hungered.

“Hey mate. Mind passing her along when you’re done?”

As rude interruptions went, it ranked high, but the fist Remy put in the idiot’s face, sending him flying proved beyond delightful. She laughed, a soft sound at first that grew as he growled in the direction of the crowd of thugs gathered to watch them.

“I fail to see the humor,” he muttered as he beckoned those waiting with crooked fingers.

“It’s just, he said the kind of thing I’ve come to expect from you. So I find it funny that you would get so mad about it.”

He turned his head and hit her with the full force of his stare. “When it comes to you, my little cougar, I won’t share. You belong to me. And I want everyone in Hell to know it.”

The declaration, blood thirsty and unexpected, left her speechless – and even more aroused than before, a heat that rose with each thug he took down. With flashing fists, well aimed kicks and a savage grace that made her cheer, he eradicated the fiends who thought to attack him and then take her. Not that it would have happened. She had more than enough magic to send them crying, but the gallant gesture, one she’d never experienced before, at least not aimed at her, made her happy. More than happy, she discovered in that moment, she liked Remy. Really, really liked him. Was perhaps even falling in love.

It should have sent her screaming. Or made her turn him into a fire-lizard. Instead, as soon as he was done wiping the ground with his assailants, she threw morals and caution to the wind, jumping into his arms and laying the kiss of all kisses on him.

*

Of all the places she could have decided to seduce him, she chose the worst, Remy thought, not that he stopped her. On the contrary, he let Ysabel wrap herself around his body and with one eye on the shadows and the threat they might contain, he carried her to the nearest portal and in no time had them back in the primary ring, outside of the castle.

All the while, they kissed. Even groped a little. Hot, hard and hungry for her, he didn’t dare let her up for air lest she change her mind. Besides, it wasn’t as if he could have stopped. His need for her seemed bottomless, and despite the odd looks they garnered on their trek – stares he caught and, with a rude gesture, halted – he didn’t stop, nor did he let himself think about what it meant. What she meant to him. He did know that his earlier claim that she belonged to him felt right. As did his fight to take down the unworthy bastards who thought to fantasize about his witch.
My witch. And no one gets to think about her doing the naughty but me. With me.

A part of him should have panicked at the possessive feeling she evoked. Ran screaming into the wilds at how she seemed to consume every part of him, from his body, to his heart, and what he owned of his soul – Lucifer, as Lord of this domain, owned the rest. Instead of looking for ways to leave without a trace, though, a fierce joy possessed him. He didn’t understand it, but he embraced it, and let her feel his inexplicable happiness in his kiss and touch. But seriously, he needed to find them a private spot or else he’d end up doing something crazy like fucking her in public, and while necking could pass muster, he somehow doubted the actual act would. And what she thought, what she experienced their first time together, mattered.
That and I’d prefer to not have her kill me.
Not to mention, the things he wanted to do to her…Yeah, he wanted no one to see her naked, sighing and squirming but him.

So he needed to find a room, which presented a dilemma. Where to go?

He vetoed her apartment because he didn’t fancy any interruptions – or chewed off body parts – from her damned cat. Which left him his place, well, more like his room. He’d never gotten around to really getting his own apartment given his assignments sent him all over the place. Most nights, he slept in some lucky female’s bed, and when he took a night off, he boarded in a barrack.

When working close to the castle, and in between girlfriends, he tended to live at home. Call him a momma’s boy and he’d pull your intestines out of your belly button and make you siphon them like spaghetti. But, really, he did enjoy the perks of home life from the laundry and mending, to the home cooked meals. Sure, he occasionally had to deal with some inconveniences like when his mother covered all the windows, got rid of all the lights and candles so the imps couldn’t find and steal her smuggled Oreo cookies. But the paranoia wasn’t her fault. He had a weakness for the sugary sweet centers, not that he admitted his culpability. She’d shaved him bald while he slept the last time she caught him stealing her treats.

But Mom left on that holiday to the beach, so no worries about her barging in and saying something embarrassing.
Or crazy. Part fire demon, a whole lot of nuts, and the one who raised him, his mother took getting used to. Although, most of the time she acted as a great deterrent to overeager females who wanted to get their claws in him. Great usually, except he didn’t want Ysabel to run far, far away.
But if I intend to keep her, which seems more and more likely, she’ll eventually have to meet Mom.