How to Lose a Demon in 10 Days (2 page)

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Authors: Saranna DeWylde

BOOK: How to Lose a Demon in 10 Days
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C
HAPTER
T
WO
Sign on the Dotted Line
D
amn, if he wasn’t the sexiest thing she’d ever laid eyes on. Grace almost had to fan herself. Of course, she couldn’t go around thinking things like that. He might hear her. Though, she was sure the personal fanfare in his head was louder than anything she might be thinking. Demons were like that. If he did hear her, she’d just blame it on hot flashes. Not that she was old enough to have them, but what would he know about such things? He was too busy trying to play with his toy rather than learn how it worked.
That lacy jabot thing had to go. It wasn’t the eighteenth century, after all. His hair was obnoxiously pristine. She wanted to run her fingers through it, muss it all up. And his eyes? Oh, saints and devils, his eyes! The irises raged with hellfire—though she kind of figured she wasn’t supposed to find that attractive.
Those eyes were still on her breasts. She was drawn to ogle him in return, just a little bit more. That jawline? She almost shivered. He had a jaw so smooth, so defined, that it should be a sin. She was sure that somewhere it was. Maybe that’s why he was doing time in Hell: because he was so devilishly handsome.
Of course, Grace couldn’t have him running around thinking she was impressed. She’d never get anything out of him, then. Demons were like that, vain and incorrigible creatures. She’d also read they could be fun—at least until they pulled out the brimstone and damnation and whatnot.
She stole a peek at his fingers. You could always tell a powerful demon by his hands—or hoofs, if you’d gotten one of those. But she’d been specific. Her granny Seraphim didn’t raise no dummy. Despite her previous protestations of ignorance, Grace had tried to conjure Caspian specifically, and he had nice hands indeed. The fingers were long and tapered. Elegant. He could work great magicks.
Also, the thing about Caspian was that he hadn’t always been all demon. He wasn’t even particularly evil. It was more like he’d run with a bad crowd. Been born into a bad place. Guilt by association.
Or so she’d read.
“Okay, then. For my boon, I want some poon.”
“Excuse me,
what
?” Grace snorted. If she’d been a different woman, she would have blushed.
“Poon. Pussy. Love cave. Velvet sheath. Horizontal mambo. Any of this ringing a bell?”
“I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
“You heard me all right, girly.”
“Number one, I am not a ‘girly.’ Number two, I’m not a virgin. I thought all of that cavorting had to be with innocent flesh?”
He raised a black brow. “How un-virgin are you?”
“
Un-virgin
? Is that even a word?”
“Does it matter?”
Grace sighed. “Yes. If you are going to drop bad Netherworld pickup lines and invoke outdated Mephistophelean contracts, you should at least have your grammar down. I mean, Faust never used any tripe like that.”
“Faust never got laid.”
She opened her mouth to say something and then realized she really couldn’t. How was she to know what Faust did with his male parts? Caspian could have been there for all she knew. “I suppose there is that.”
“So, is it a deal?”
“I don’t know. It’s not going to end up like that scene from
Devil’s Advocate,
is it? I don’t fancy all the scratches and psychosis, thank you very much.”
Caspian grinned, flashing very white and unnaturally perfect teeth at her. “If every deal turned out bad, why would women keep doing this?”
“Duh. Because the virgins don’t know any better. The rest of us want whatever we want more than we
don’t
want a few minutes of discomfort.”
“There you go. You must make your choice based on those criteria.” Caspian paused his pacing in the small circle of decayed bone. He looked pleased with himself. “But I can assure you, it will be more than just a few minutes.”
“Of discomfort?”
“Whatever.” Now he looked annoyed. “Stop impugning my manhood or I will not be nice to you when you let me out of this circle.”
“Who says I’m letting you out? How stupid do you think I am?”
He sighed. “You have to let me out to fulfill both ends of the bargain. I can’t shag you senseless if I’m in here, now, can I? Nor can I wreak misery and despair upon your chosen victim.”
Grace hadn’t thought about that, really. The specifics hadn’t been mentioned in any of the books she’d read.
“You can’t just, you know . . .” She waved her hand in the air.
“No, I can’t ‘just,’ ” he sneered, “ ‘you know,’ ” and waved his arms in a similarly wild but mocking gesture. “I’m a hands-on kind of guy. I’ve gotta make sure it goes as intended.”
“Why don’t I trust you?” Grace asked sarcastically.
“I don’t know. You’re the first. I have a very honest face.” Caspian winked.
She snorted. “My ass.”
“Yes, it’s nice. What would you like me to do with it?”
“Nothing!” He’d actually sounded sincere. “Not a damn thing. I want you to—”
“Let me remind you, we still need to sign the contract. That was one of
your
stipulations. I wouldn’t feel right beginning without it,” he interrupted.
“Fine. Get the damn thing already.”
She experienced a moment of contrition. What had she just agreed to—besides possibly life-threatening or, alternately, mind-blowing sex? Either way, the possibilities were . . .
He produced something from his sleeve with a grand flourish reminiscent of the great turn-of-the-century showman magicians. His hands were probably slicker, quicker . . . Whatever.
The parchment unrolled of its own volition; again, this appeared to be orchestrated for the show. With his other diabolically elegant hand, Caspian produced a black quill that appeared to be made from a raven’s wing. The nib was wickedly sharp and bright. Like a razor. Well, how else was she going to sign a contract in blood?
Grace eyed the parchment carefully, her gaze going from it to the quill, to the ridiculously pleased look on the demon’s face. She wasn’t sure that sat well with her. He was looking way too self-impressed. She needed to read that contract carefully. Carefully, indeed.
Again, Grace contemplated what she was getting herself into. At the time she did the research, the cost hadn’t mattered—only that she pay Michael back in spades for what he’d done to her, because she was the kind of girl who would cut off her nose to spite her face. A contract with a Crown Prince of Hell seemed just her bad-girl speed. Now she had a feeling she would live to regret it.
Or die to regret it, for that matter. Of course, where Michael was involved, she’d exhausted all of her other options.
She read the scrolling and calligraphic script of the contract, thankful that it was surprisingly to the point. But that gave her another worry: If Caspian wasn’t trying to trick her with legal language, there had to be another angle.
Before she could think any more about it, Grace pushed the nub into her thumb. “Goddamn it!” she shrieked. “That hurts.”
“Um, hello, little girl? You’re the one that demanded the contract be signed in blood, not I.”
“Whatever, demon,” she hissed. “Fork the thing over.”
He rolled up the parchment and thrust it toward her. Grace couldn’t help but realize how very phallic the action was, presenting the scroll as if he were going to impale her with its long, tumescent shape. The demon himself was puffed up with a certain pride and watched her with a weighted expectation she’d seen on the faces of previous lovers when they’d first exposed their bodies to her view.
She scribbled her name on the line, then handed back the quill. He signed as well, and did some fancy finger-dancing before making the scroll disappear back into thin air.
“That it?” Grace asked.
Caspian looked offended. “Obviously not.”
“With the contract.”
“Not exactly. You need to break the circle to let me out.”
“I’m still not feeling good about that.”
Caspian sighed. “Is this going to be an encounter session where we talk about feelings and your childhood, or a summoning?”
“Fine,” Grace snapped, and she wiped her foot across the part of the circle closest to her, smearing the dust.
“Nuh-uh.” He shook his head. “It all needs to go.”
Grace was annoyed. “Why does the book call for the bone dust to start with, if I’m just going to break the circle?”
“Uh, to keep me trapped until you get what you want?”
“I know that, smart guy. But, I mean, why does it have to be something I’d likely have to kill for if it’s not vital to keeping your presence on this plane?”
Caspian grinned. “Demon-summoning is a gateway sin. It leads to other sins, like murder for bone dust. It’s a slippery slope, sugar.”
“Don’t call me ‘sugar.’ ”
“Then get to business. It’s not like I have eternity to sit here and verbally spar with you.”
She glowered at him.
“Not to say you aren’t lovely just standing there, but that only makes our other activities more pressing.”
Grace swallowed hard as he cocked his hips at a rakish angle. “You mean you want that part
now
?”
“When did you think I was going to want it?”
She sighed heavily. “Now, I suppose.”
He motioned for her to continue wiping the dust away, and she obliged him. When she finished, he just stood there, like he couldn’t believe she’d actually broken the circle. That couldn’t be good. Not at all. She backed up a few steps.
“I’m not going to chase you,” he said.
“Well, I’m not going to come to you.”
“Your choice. It was in the contract. You don’t fulfill your end, I don’t fulfill mine. Easy, really.”
“Just sex? It can’t be that easy.”
His eyes twinkled—or blazed. “I assure you it is.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a demon.”
He shrugged. “We get bored. And you’re hot. That’s it, really. I have my share of souls, locks of granny’s hair, and still-beating hearts. This is a better deal. It’s something I want more. You’d be surprised how horny a demon can get.”
“Uh-huh.” Grace still didn’t believe him that it would be this easy, but what choice did she have? If she wanted this thing done, she’d have to sleep with him. After all of her blabbing to Michael about how she was going to make him pay, well . . . there was just no option anymore. It had been four years. She’d waited four long years and gotten nothing, so this was her only recourse.
She tentatively stepped toward Caspian. He really was good looking, considering he was a demon. Of course, who knew what he was like under the skin? He could be all scaly and snaggletoothed. But, hell. What did she care? This had to be done. She just wouldn’t think about it.
Grace took a deep breath and began peeling her nightgown off her shoulders.
“No, no. And no.” Caspian shook his head. “That’s not going to work.”
Grace blew out a puff of breath, which caused her fringe of hair to flutter against her forehead, almost as if even it was exasperated with the ordeal. “What, then? I don’t see how you can shag me properly—or get shagged for that matter—if I’m not naked.”
He rolled his eyes and she found herself staring at those sinfully long lashes. “Well, yes. But no to the oh-so dramatic and put-upon removal of said garments. This is supposed to be fun.”
“For you, maybe. I didn’t conjure a demon because I can’t get laid.”
Caspian took another step forward, and she took another step back.
“This isn’t going to work, Daughter of Eve, if you keep backing away from me. Come here. Or do not. I have pressing business.” He glanced grumpily away.
For all that he was a demon, a Crown Prince of Hell, in fact, Grace was no longer afraid. Though, perhaps she should have been. If she’d had the common sense God gave a housefly, she would have been quaking in her fuzzy little slippers. She took a step toward him.
“That’s better.”
Grace took another step, but as his grin got wider she paused.
“I’m really not used to working so hard.”
“What, like, I should fall over on my back like a turtle? Lie flailing and waiting for my doom?” She snorted again, but was now very close.
“Yes. Usually that’s how it works. Though it’s hardly ‘doom.’ Is there something in my teeth?” He bared them at her, a scintillating smile. “No? Then what’s the problem? The sulfur smell will wash out of your hair, I promise.”
“I’m really not relishing the thought of going to Hell for this.”
He stretched out one of those long, elegant fingers and let one of her dark curls wrap itself around the digit. Fingering the texture, he murmured, “Like silk.” And when he pressed his lips to her cheek, it was anything but platonic.

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