“I was wondering when you would come from out of there,” the man—no, demon—said.
An actual demon stood in front of him. He looked a lot different from the textbooks his tutors forced on him. In fact, the demon looked almost beautiful. A gust of wind blew past Snoe, picking up some of the white rose petals. It made it look as if it were snowing around the demon.
“Do you need help?” the demon asked with a tilt to his lips.
Snoe was tempted to say yes, but the first warning about demons was to never ask for help without discussing the terms to which you were agreeing to. As the saying goes, the devil is in the details, and demons will trick anyone, even a child.
Snoe never got to say anything as the demon lifted him up and gently placed him down on the ground. Snoe looked up at the tall demon, still unable to speak. Black painted nails came into view as the demon’s hand came closer to Snoe. Snoe flinched and squeezed his eyes shut. Nothing happened. He peeked through the slit of his eyes, and the demon held a petal in his hand.
“Would you like to make a deal with me?”
Snoe shook his head. The words clogged in his throat weren’t going to come out. A full smile with sharp teeth appeared on the demon’s face.
“What a pity. Your soul looks divine.” A long, forked tongue swiped across his lips.
Ice-cold fear ran through every part of Snoe, making it impossible for him to run.
“Let me see your hand,” the demon said.
No, bad idea. Still, Snoe lifted his small hand, offering it to the demon. Warm soft hands touched his, and a black painted nail lengthened and went pointy. He pricked the middle of Snoe’s hand. He flinched from the pain, but it was all too fleeting. The demon pricked his own finger, and black sluggish-like liquid dripped down onto Snoe’s hand. Snoe watched with a mix of confusion and fear. The demon handed him a handkerchief and finally let go of Snoe’s hand.
“Your soul will be mine one day,” the demon said.
It was like a promise, one Snoe felt in his bones but didn’t want to keep. And just like that, he was gone. Snoe held the handkerchief to his hand and looked around, making sure the demon was gone for sure.
“There you are. Come on, Snoe,” his mother said.
She saw Snoe holding his hand and rushed over to him.
“Are you okay? Let me see it,” his mother said.
Something in Snoe thought that was a bad idea. Instead, he stuffed his hand into the pocket of his pants.
“I’m fine. One of the rose thorns pricked me is all.”
His mother looked skeptical, but she still gave him a warm smile, one that Snoe didn’t know he would grow to forget. She ran her fingers through his hair, the same color as hers. Snoe would soon forget the sound of her laughter or the sweet sound of her voice, as his mother died a week later, in a summoning circle painted with her life’s blood.
Snoe awoke with the memory of his dream still fresh in his mind. His deal with Ezyrah hadn’t been by chance. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen the demon before. He lifted his hand, and sure enough, the marking that had been there since he could remember was there. It was a marking that Ezyrah had placed on him.
What the hell did it mean?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Demon Lord
“What is it?”
Ezyrah watched with a hint of amusement as the little witch fought with his own lust and fear. It only made Snoe more appealing to him, he itched to bring the little witch to his knees and make him beg for his cock.
“We’ve met before,” Snoe said.
Ezyrah shrugged, walking around the confines of the little circle the witch had drawn to summon him. He’d expected a soul waiting for him, not questions.
“Is this important to you?” Ezyrah asked coolly.
Snoe licked his delectable lips. He was trying to be brave, Ezyrah could tell. He didn’t look him in the eyes but held his head up as he spoke. It enticed Ezyrah even more. Snoe was different from the sniveling, begging witches who’d brokered deals with him in the past.
“Yes. What is this dot in the middle of my hand?” Snoe asked, showing off said dot.
It was the marking Ezyrah had placed on Snoe long ago. He would have never guessed the young witch would turn into something he’d enjoy so much.
“It is a claim,” Ezyrah answered.
He watched as confusion morphed on Snoe’s face. His thick brows knitted together, and his mouth dipped into a frown.
“What?”
Ezyrah sighed, coming to a full stop and putting his hands behind his back.
“Its meaning is simple: no one else can have your soul but me.”
Snoe shook his head. “But how? If I never would have summoned you, then you would never have claimed my soul.”
Ezyrah laughed. “I knew you would summon a demon one day and make a deal. It was your fate.”
Snoe took a step back. “But that can’t be true. We’re taught that deals with demons are taboo, that demons trick those who seek a deal and the witch dies.”
Ezyrah shrugged. It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“That means you were my father’s demon,” Snoe said. He looked appalled and took a step back. “Did you…” He gestured wildly between them. “Have sex with my father?”
“I am no one’s property,” Ezyrah said. Snoe had the fore sight to take a step back.
Alister Blake had been a good-looking man, but Ezyrah had never taken it that far with him. It was a missed opportunity, but he hadn’t taken in any pleasure from Alister or Eria.
“No, and my deal was not with Alister Blake,” Ezyrah said. “He had a deal with another demon who’d ended up collecting on the deal sooner than planned because of your father’s negligence.”
Snoe paced. “If you weren’t there for my dad, then why do I remember you talking to him?”
Ezyrah was growing bored with the questions. What did it matter? The deal he’d had before was complete; he’d taken what was owed to him, end of the story. He stepped over the outer circle, his power instantly draining to one-tenth of what it was. He ignored the pain. It was like wildfire in his veins as he continued to move closer to Snoe.
“My mom? You had a contract with Eria Whyte,” Snoe said.
Ezyrah stopped short, bringing a hand up to Snoe’s angular face, so much like Eria’s. Just like his mother, his soul was radiant and only made Ezyrah want it more.
“Yes, and before you ask your idiotic question, no, I hadn’t had the pleasure of your mother’s body,” Ezyrah said.
“That sounded gross,” Snoe said.
Ezyrah leaned forward, holding Snoe’s face still as he brushed his lips across his. It was a minimalist touch, and yet Ezyrah craved more. The man that stood before him was a danger to him. He made Ezyrah want things he’d never craved from any witch. Sure, in his many years of life, he’d taken pleasure from other beings, but never had he craved it as much as he did at that moment.
“What was your deal with her? Why did she die so early?” Snoe asked. His voice caught at the end.
Ezyrah tightened his hold on Snoe’s face. “Deals are sacred. What she asked for was her own business. Never ask such a question again.”