A Demon And His Witch (14 page)

Locating the tattered remains of her ruined clothes – a reminder of their impatience and passion the night before – she ditched them in favor of something more functional. She pulled on a shirt of his that she located hanging over a chair, biting her lip against the soft pleasure that wanted to relax her as his scent enveloped her.

Slipping her feet in to her shoes, which survived somehow despite their frantic trek to his bed – and the episode where he pounded into her missionary style while she dug the heels into his back – she bent over to buckle the clasps only to hear an amused feminine voice say, “Did panties go out of style while I vacationed?”

Whipping upright, Ysabel regarded the stranger who’d entered. Tall, with a shapely figure, red hued skin, bright yellow eyes, and a pair of horns projecting from her ash blonde hair, the older woman arched a brow at Ysabel’s perusal. Then shocked the wits of out her when she reached under her voluminous skirts and emerged with a bright purple pair of underpants.

Flinging them to the side, the obviously deranged woman grinned. “That’s better. I won’t have it said that I’m not sticking with current trends.”

Blinking in shock, it took Ysabel a moment to speak. “I’m sorry. But who are you?”

“I’m the mother of the boy you screwed last night.”

“Mother?” Ysabel almost choked on the word. Great. Just great. Caught by Remy’s mama. Exactly how to handle this? The last mother she’d interacted with didn’t handle her involvement with her son very well. How would this one react?

“Yes. I’m that darling boy’s mother. Took me three days to birth his fat head. You should keep that in mind when you decide to get pregnant. My poor cunny was never the same after.”

“Pregnant?” she squeaked. Ysabel sat down hard on the edge of the bed. “No. I’m afraid you have this wrong. Remy and I aren’t together. And I am most definitely not going to get pregnant with his child.” Or so she hoped. She’d completely forgotten to take any precautions the previous night. The realization made her head swim.

“I thought Lucifer banned birth control? Sentimental guy he is, all about family. And rebuilding his army.”

“Not with a child of my loins he’s not,” she retorted.

“Don’t be so hasty to speak. I know you had sex. I can smell it all over you and this room. With my son I might add. Which, if his swimmers are anything like his father’s, would make him the daddy, unless you let him finish off inside another body part?”

Oh, she so wasn’t having this conversation. “I think I should go.”

Remy’s mother flung her arms across the doorframe, blocking the way out. “No. You can’t leave. We’ve not finished bonding!”

“I’m really confused.” And she was. What was up with his mother and her crazy act? Perhaps it was a ploy to get rid of her before Remy returned. In that case, she’d happily oblige before things got even stranger.

“Confused? So am I most of the time.” The matron grinned showing off sharp teeth. “But, my first shrink said it’s just because I take things too literally. Of course, I thought he meant that as an insult, and now feel kind of bad in retrospect for taking his head off and kicking it around his office. However, my second shrink, who’s much better at explaining things, says I can forgive myself, because of my insanity.”

“I see,” Ysabel replied faintly, still bewildered and now really worried.

“So, when’s the wedding? Or are you going to live in sin? I know Lucifer would love that. My baby boy finally involved in a serious relationship. And it didn’t even take Hell freezing over again for it to happen.”

Married? “Oh, no. We’re not a couple.” At the matron’s pointed look, Ysabel actually blushed. “Well, we kind of are, but it’s just because we’re working together. Once we capture some missing souls, our job will be done and Remy will probably move on to the next lucky girl.” Who might end up missing a few toes – among other body parts – as Ysabel consoled herself over the loss.

“Denial! I love it. Reminds me of when I met dear old Jacko. It took him tying me to a bed and sexually torturing me for days before I’d admit I cared for him. And he hardly misses the finger I bit off at all. Best days of my life.”

Did Remy’s mother not grasp the concept of too much information? “I am not in denial. Remy and I aren’t settling down together and we’re not a couple. It was just sex. You’re his mother. You know he beds a different girl just about every night.”

A cunning look came into her eyes. “Yes. But he never brings them home.”

“What?” There came that lightheadedness again.

“My Remy is a lady’s man. Cute bugger gets that from his human father. A dear man that one, but so fragile. What a shame. At least he died with a smile on his face. But I’m getting off track. As I was saying, Remy might fornicate like a bunny on Viagra, but he never, ever brings girls home. The only time I meet his slags is when he invites me to lunch and gets me to scare off the clingy ones. So, the fact you’re here, in his bedroom, must mean you’re special.”

“I’m getting a headache.” Bending her head, Ysabel clutched at her skull, the conversation so completely nuts, she didn’t even know how to respond anymore. One thing though kept repeating in her head.
I’m the first girl he’s brought home?
Surely not. And what did it mean? Nothing. Something. Oh, thinking about it just made the turmoil in her mind worse. And time wasted.

Oh no. Jumping up, she scanned the clock and her breath left in a whoosh. It was time for her torture. She peeked down at her toes to see them intact. Wiggled them, but didn’t feel a tingle. Could the clock be wrong?

“Excuse me, what time –”

“What’s burning? Do you smell that?” Whipping around, Remy’s mother barreled out the door, and unease gripping her, Ysabel followed. Down she went, feet clattering on staircases that wound and ended in blanks walls, forcing her to hop over the railing to where they started again. She barely kept the older female demon in sight as she raced, skirts billowing until they entered a cavern, heavy with smoke and filled with a familiar stench of burning flesh.

It took Ysabel a moment to grasp the situation, to recognize the burning pyre. Remy’s mother understood right away.

“My baby’s on fire!” she screamed.

And so he was. Every inch of Remy danced with flames, but he should have been immune. He was part fire demon, however, despite his heritage, she could see the agony by the rictus on his face and the way he clamped his lips tight. He didn’t let out a sound, but she could recognize the pain in the way he held himself, and as realization struck her, she sank to her knees with a whispered, “No. Oh no. Why, Remy? Why?”

As fantastical as it seemed, he’d taken over her punishment, and she knew who to blame for that.

*

Lucifer whistled as he signed off on a bunch of sell-my-soul-for-riches requests. Business boomed. People damned themselves by the thousands. His golf game had vastly improved, meaning his match later that week with his brother stood a chance. Especially if he cheated.

Nothing could bring him down. He was on top of his world.

“I demand you give me back my curse!” yelled a witch who really needed a man to teach her some manners.

Putting his quill down, he tented his fingers. “Can’t. Remy bought it fair and square. One hundred years of service in my army. Iron clad agreement signed in blood.”

“Rip it up.”

Peering at her as she stood before him dressed in a man’s shirt that hit her about mid-thigh, her hair tousled and lips swollen, Lucifer grinned. “I see someone got lucky.”

“Yes, I had sex. It was great. Can we get back the point? I want you to cancel the contract. Give me back my curse.”

“Why would I do that? Shouldn’t you be happy you’re not going to suffer anymore? I thought he was crazy myself taking it on, especially knowing he wouldn’t have his usual fire demon protection to ease the pain. But, you must have done him good.” Lucifer wiggled his brows, but Ysabel, lacking a sense of humor, scowled.

“It’s my curse. I’m the one who should suffer. Not him.”

“Too late. But, really, if it upsets you that much, just find the last two missing souls. Once they’re vanquished back to the pit, loverboy stops smelling like roasted venison each day, and our contract with each other will be done.”

“It stops when I find Francisco and his mother?”

“Unless you want to make a deal to extend it. I do recall someone not long ago declaring how much she hated a certain demon. Am I to understand, by your current attire, you’ve changed your mind?”

“No. He’s still a rotten pig, but he doesn’t deserve to suffer for my mistakes. I’ll fetch you those souls. But that’s it after that. You and I are done.”

“I’ve got a cake already pre-ordered to celebrate the event, and a pool of ladies dying to take over your position. Have I mentioned the new dress code requires them to be pantyless?”

“Pig.”

“I prefer king of seduction.”

“Oh really?”

Oh shit. Lucifer pasted a smile on his face as Gaia once again materialized out of nowhere, foot tapping and arms crossed. “My dearest lady, there you are.”

“Don’t you
my lady
me, you adulterous dog.”

“Can we discuss this later? I was having an important discussion with my assistant.”

Ysabel narrowed her gaze. “Are you going to release Remy from the curse?”

“No.”

Lips tight Ysabel turned to Gaia. “I’ve got a video of him grabbing the mail girl’s ass.”

Before Lucifer could explode at Ysabel for tattling, Gaia rounded on him. Judging by the green sparks in her eyes, he’d once again landed in major doo-doo.

Dammit, and I just got off the bloody couch.

Chapter Eleven

Remy caught Ysabel coming out of Lucifer’s office. She didn’t look pleased. As a matter of fact, her scowl deepened when she caught sight of him. Uh-oh.

“What were you thinking, taking on my curse like that?” she yelled.

“I couldn’t stand to see you suffer,” he admitted. Most women would have swooned at this comment. His witch? She slugged him in the gut.

“You had no right. It’s my burden to bear. Not yours.”

“It’s not a big deal. We’ll catch the two remaining souls, and it will stop. Easy as eating your pie.” But not as much fun. He’d only suffered her curse for a few measly minutes and he was already determined to not go through it again, however, he would keep it forever if it kept her from suffering.

“This isn’t funny,” she growled. “What if we can’t find the missing souls? The burning increases by a minute each day.”

“You’re worried? I knew you liked me.”

“No I don’t.”

“You know, that would be a lot more believable if I didn’t have your claw marks embedded in my shoulders still.”

A blush was his reward, but it still didn’t wipe the worry from her eyes.

“Remy, please stop joking for a minute. Don’t you understand how grave this is? The pain will drive you insane if we can’t stop it.”

Madness? Bah, he dealt with it every day. He shrugged. “I heard you met my mother. I know all about insanity. It’s not that bad once you beat up everyone who teases you about it.”

“Can’t you ever take anything seriously?”

“I do,” he said, instantly sober. He pulled her into his arms, relieved she didn’t fight him. “I take you very seriously. And I meant what I said. I can’t stand to see you suffer. I gladly took on your curse. I would do more to keep you protected from harm.”

“But why? I don’t understand.” Her voice trembled as she asked in a low, husky whisper. Funny how his time with her and the disclosure of her story made him understand her better. He now knew the bitter façade she presented to the world was a cover to hide the pain and loneliness. A self-imposed exile because she feared to trust. Yet, he’d seen enough of her happiness last night when they played to see how she longed for it. Needed it.
And I will give it to her.

He cupped her face and tilted her so she could see him as he spoke. He caught her gaze and hoped she could read what he felt. See his sincerity. “I care for you, Ysabel.”

She shook her head, or tried to. He wouldn’t let her budge. Falling in love, becoming vulnerable to someone again, terrified her. Tears rolled down her cheeks, a weakness she surely hated. “No you don’t. We had great sex. That’s it. When this is over, another pretty girl will catch your eye and you’ll wander off.”

“I won’t.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she cried, pulling free. “You will. You’re just like him. Fucking anything that moves. Telling me pretty lies to get between my legs. You can stop now. I don’t believe it. I don’t believe you.”

“Ysabel. No, it’s not like that. Listen to me.”

But his witch fled as the choked sound of her sobs reached him. Crushed him. All he’d wanted to do was take away her pain, and show her happiness. Instead, by caring for her, he’d caused her even more anguish. There had to be a way to fix this. To make her believe him.

To make her love me.

Because, despite what she thought, his demonizing days were done. He’d done the craziest thing imaginable. He’d fallen in love with a witch.

*

Ysabel ran to her suite of rooms, upset, angry, and in fucking love. So much for trying to fool herself earlier that all she felt for Remy was lust. It was love. Stupid, rotten, stinking love.

And for a confirmed manwhore. Didn’t that just beat it all? Five hundred years she’d spent hating men and swearing to never let one hurt her again. And what did she do? Fall in love with a demon who kept doing things to soften her up. Who didn’t even have to try that hard to make her love him.

The jerk. A jerk she didn’t understand.

He’d gotten what he wanted. They’d gone at it like a succubus after a meal of oysters, indulging in hours of sensual pleasure, laughter and even talk. Who would have thought he hid a brain behind the pretty face?

A fun time was had by all. He managed to get her, despite all her claims to the contrary, to have sex, so why continue the charade?

Why would he take on my curse? Why would he put himself through that agony?
Because she didn’t believe for a minute that he cared for her. Allowing herself to believe was foolish because when it turned out to be false, it would hurt so much.
And I won’t allow it.