The Demon's Bargain (Demons Unleashed Erotic Novellas) (4 page)

“True.”

“So what is the plan?”

Vetis tread slowly, deliberately clicking his boots on the stone, as if the noise would ward off their enemies. “Information.”

“What kind?”

“I need to know what has been done to her.” Vetis said, “The challenge is to get her to have one night of pleasure.”

Zepar stopped dead. “How is that corruption? It sounds more like my job.”

“Corruption is defined as getting someone to do something they believe they never would.”

With each step, they descended further beneath the earth, replacing fresh air with the scent of stale urine and defecation. Gods but he hated this place.

“Okay.” Zepar responded. “But still. What about Gaap’s directive?”

He was sick of Gaap’s directive. He’d been mucking around the Humans, stealing their energy to use against the Fae. With the Earth and Humans in complete disarray, corrupting most people was ridiculously easy. “I’ve been doing more than my fair share. Besides, I’m bored with easy corruption.”

“You didn’t look bored a few minutes ago.”

“She is,” Vetis spread his lips in parody of a smile, “inspiring me.”

“So, good Demon, bad Demon?” Zepar asked.

“I get to be bad.”

“How come I never get to be the bad Demon?”

“Because I’m so good at being bad.”

Chapter Six

When they reached the appropriate cell, Vetis nodded to the guard and waved him away.

Vetis and Zepar flanked the cell doorway, leaning in a casual pose against the stone walls that separated this cell from the others.

The husband had not improved upon his detainment. He jumped up from the metal cot in the corner and ran over to the bars. His white fingers gripped the iron. “Is it done?”

“You gift me with powers beyond my mien.” Idiot.

“Should have known.” He whispered under his breath, “Stupid cunt.”

From deep in his gut, rage began to rise and burn through Vetis’s ribs, lungs and heart.

“Silence!” The word exploded from him.

Vetis’ sound waves shook the bed in the corner of the cell and Amara’s husband stumbled back.

“Come Vetis.” Zepar kept his tone friendly, mild as if he sensed just how close Vetis was to the edge of blood lust.

The temptation to reach through the bars and gut the prisoner roared through Vetis.

With an edge of contempt, Zepar played the good Demon. “Cut the fellow a break.”

He forced his mind to calm, picturing Amara with the flush of arousal on her breasts. “I want information.” He made his voice cold, menacing.

Edward edged back against the bed. For a moment his mind had been wide open. And surprise, there was more to this fool than Vetis had originally believed. A furtive deal in a shadowy backroom. The instigator cloaked in darkness as he handed Edward a picture of Vetis.

Fae? Possibly.

“I’m sure he won’t mind accommodating you,” Zepar said pleasantly. Only Vetis heard the bite. Apparently his friend had seen the same thing. “Isn’t that right?”

“Wha-what kind of information?”

“If I am to pleasure your wife, I need to know what was done to her.”

The coward subtly relaxed. “How about a little side bet?” He gave a sly smile.

“Still gambling, I see.” Vetis uncrossed his arms from his chest and straightened away from the cool stone.

“Sadly my debts have been many.” His face brightened and his chubby cheeks lifted. “But I always pay them off. Or I should say my wife does.”

The asshole laughed at his joke.

If there had been any affection in his voice, Vetis might have cut him some slack, but Edward’s casual response to selling his wife pissed Vetis off. “I am not in the mood to bargain. Are we clear?”

“I’m already stuck here because of her.” He kicked at a small pebble on the barren floor. “Why should I make it easier for her?”

Vetis had hoped that the man would just tell him what he wanted to know but it seemed that had been too optimistic of him. What Vetis needed now was to discover who gave the man a picture of him.

“How much do you know of Demons?” Vetis asked softly.

The man wasn’t a complete idiot. He blanched. “Ah, you can compel people to do things.”

That wasn’t quite accurate, but he’d take it. “Yes, we can.”

Vetis saw what Edward desired. A picture of the man reclining on a bed of silks surrounded by riches flashed through the gambler’s mind and he steadied. He was stalling on purpose. But why?

“I’m sorry. I’ve been remiss. I forgot to introduce you to my friend, Zepar.” Vetis said, his voice even softer. “Do you know what kind of Demon he is?”

“N-no.” The man’s teeth began to chatter. The clickety-clack grated on Vetis.

“Demon of Seduction.” He drew out the word seduction.

The man fell away from Zepar, his face a rictus of horror.

Zepar’s smile was all teeth. Vetis knew Zepar also caught the images the man feared. Apparently, he was terrified of sodomy.

After thousands of years imprisoned with only men, Zepar would never fuck another man unless he didn’t have a choice. But this stupid sod didn’t need to know that.

“What do you,” he gulped. “Want?” Edward edged back and cowered on the ragged cot.

“Tell me what else you know of Demons.”

“You’re dangerous.”

“True.” Vetis clapped enthusiastically. “Anything else?”

“You are the sworn enemies of the Fae.” And there, the same picture Vetis had seen before. This man was conspiring with the Fae. The Fae had maneuvered the gambler into incurring the debt with Vetis. How very interesting. Why?

“Do you know any?” Zepar curled his fingers around the iron bars, tension in his hands.

They waited for him to lie.

But oddly enough, he didn’t. “I have met some. They are frequent visitors to our tavern.”

“I see.” Vetis glanced at Zepar. They needed more information before they could attempt to use this idiot. “Perhaps you can be of some use to me.”

The gambler jumped up eagerly, leaning toward the bars with an avid grin on his face.

“But first--” Vetis stopped and the man’s grin fell. “Tell me about your wife’s adventures.”

“But haven’t I given you enough information?” He hid his petulance beneath a submissive smile, keeping the image of the riches present in his mind.

Vetis jerked his chin at Zepar.

“Fine. Fine.” The man shrank further away from Zepar. But his mind betrayed a gleeful maliciousness as he pictured his wife’s abuse. “Vegetables.”

Chapter Seven

Amara awoke from the longest, most restful slumber. Gods, she didn’t want to regain consciousness. She stretched her arms above her head and arched her back. Slinky satin slid against her naked skin, caressing her breasts and slipping between her legs.

Satin? They couldn’t afford satin.

Her eyes popped open. And it all came rushing back.

She sank into a cushion of down. The ornately carved posts of a black walnut bed rose into the air. Sheer shimmery fabric draped the canopy and silk bindings hung from all four posters. She didn’t remember getting into this bed. Her last memory was of utter hopelessness and then her mind was blank.

Her heart fluttered, the tempo picking up as she lay perfectly still and took inventory, testing her body for any aches that shouldn’t be there. Acid gurgled in her stomach and threatened to burn a path back up her throat.

“Good. You’re awake.” Vetis’s voice rumbled and slid inside her, winding through her body as surely as the sheets caressed her inner thighs.

Amara pressed her eyelids closed and wished she could just pretend yesterday had never happened. Actually while she was at it, perhaps she could pretend the last two years hadn’t happened.

“I thought you might be hungry.” His minty breath was warm in her ear, the little puff tickling her eardrum. Amara braced and turned her head toward his voice.

“A little,” she lied. But then her stomach grumbled.

Vetis was so close she could see that his irises were not the black she’d thought last night. They were a deep midnight blue. He blinked, the thick black lashes fanned against his tanned skin. A dusting of beard shadowed his jaw.

Clad in a black silk robe loosely tied at the waist, he leaned back into the velvet chair next to the bed. The lapels gaped open to reveal his smooth tanned chest and dark nipples. His legs were spread wide and his cock was erect. A thick vein pulsed with his blood. Gods, he was big.

A smile played over his sensuous lips.

Had he just been sitting there watching her sleep?

“Demons have...strong appetites,” he said wryly.

Amara cleared her throat, unsure if he meant for food or something more carnal.

“Both.” His mouth curved into a wicked smile as he answered the question in her mind. “Do you trust me?”

“Do I have a choice?” Bitterness welled at her impotence.

“Free will is a wondrous thing. I would never presume to take it away,” Vetis commented mildly.

“And yet I am trapped here.”

His face hardened into harsh lines, his mouth an uncompromising slash. “The debt must be paid.”

“Can’t you just...let me go?” She had to ask. Last night there were moments when he had seemed almost kind.

Okay she had officially lost it. Demons were not kind.

“The sooner you fulfill the terms of the bargain, the sooner you can leave,” Vetis said. “I am trying to aid you.”

Pleasure. Right. Perhaps she could fake it and get this over with. Last night she must have been under some sort of compulsion for, toward the end, the contact had been almost pleasant. “Fine.”

“Why don’t you sit back against the pillows?”

As Amara pushed up into a seated position, she white-knuckled the satin against her breasts. Vetis leaned lazily toward the post closest to him and captured the silk scarf. In a sensuous move, he ran the silk through his hand as if he were caressing a lover. Then he reached for her wrist.

“You mean to tie me to the bed.” She cursed the waver in her voice.

“I won’t hurt you.” Vetis trailed the rough pads of his fingers along her arm as if trying to soothe a wild animal and then he slipped her hand through the silken tie. With a flick of his wrist, the material restricted her arm. Not too tightly. But then he tugged on the other end and the restraint raised her arm slightly from the bed.

The satin sheet slipped down the right side of her body and exposed her breast.

Amara tensed in sick anticipation of his touch. But he had already headed around to the other side of the bed. With brisk efficiency, he looped the silk and bound her left wrist to the opposite post. Now both her breasts were bared to the chill morning air. Her nipples puckered.

Fierce sunlight streamed in through the open window. On a gust of wind, a hint of cut grass and the tang of lemons scented the room.

Vetis carried a heavy silver tray toward the bed. “Spread your legs.” He climbed up on the bed. His robe fell completely open. His erection pulsed as if commanding her to notice.

“I don’t want--” The items on the tray registered. Front and center was a giant carrot.

She scrabbled back toward the headboard, kicking out toward the tray. The move flung the satin sheet away from her lower body. Exactly what she wanted to avoid. Amara whimpered as memories scrolled through her mind like an old horror film.

“Stop.” Vetis grabbed her ankles and forced her feet down to the bed, pushing until her knees pointed toward the ceiling.

Amara yanked at the bindings, wrenched her wrists as she tried to cover her sex. She slammed her knees together and pulled her elbows into her waist. With each panicked tug against her restraints, she sought to protect her body. Protect her sex. But nothing would be able to protect her mind.

She sobbed.
Gods, not again
. Please not again.

She didn’t even realize she had spoken aloud until he murmured gently, “No. We must face down these bad memories and make new ones. You understand.”

Vetis whispered to her and repeated his commands over and over slowly until she finally realized he was trying to calm her down. “Can I let go of your feet?”

 She nodded. Prayed he wouldn’t hurt her.

“Let your legs fall open.” He repeated the command. His midnight blue gaze held hers imploring her to trust in him.

She did as he instructed, her mound spread wide and exposed to the air. And to him.

Vetis curled his fingers around the carrot. The instrument of her torture. “Let’s banish this memory.” He held the carrot near the leafy greens and extended it toward her.

“Bite it.” He traced her mouth with the smooth peeled tip, the odor sickly sweet in her nose.

She hated carrots. Ever since. Hated them. She opened her mouth and chomped. Hard.

The tip broke off in her mouth with a crisp snap. The sharp sound pleased her and she imagined destroying her abuser’s penis instead of the carrot. She chewed savagely and with each crunch tried desperately to eradicate her memories.

Vetis winced.

Amara spat the masticated carrot onto the tray. “More,” she said fiercely.

He obliged by holding the offensive vegetable out to her. Crack. She broke off another piece as her anger bubbled.

“Better?”

She did feel better. “Yes.”

He turned the carrot around in his hand so that the greens dangled from his fist. “Still not quite right. But I have an idea.” His smile was full of sin. “Lean back against the pillows.”

Amara started to object then shrugged.

He began with the arm he’d bound first. The slightly rough edges of the greens teased the delicate skin on the inside of her right wrist, and then he gently swept the leafy tips along the sensitive veins of her inner arm. Not quite a tickle. Then across her collarbone and along her throat, he brushed against her rapid pulse. Her blood beat so hard she thought it might just burst right out of her.

With a flourish, he twirled the greens over the hardening tip of her breast, the contact feather light against her nipple. “And how does that feel, hmm?”

Her heart’s frantic beat was a dual assault of lingering terror and new burgeoning sensations. The newer odd reaction of her body overpowered the terror in her mind and caused the fear to fade.