I pushed him away, coughing. It felt like I’d breathed in something sinister. The devil grabbed me, a hunger filling his eyes. This was going to end badly. He pushed me back onto the bed.
He lifted my leg … and pressed a kiss to my ankle. Was the devil being gentle? Hell had officially frozen over.
“Wait,” I gasped.
The devil dragged his eyes from my legs. “I’ve waited long enough, consort. You are mine.”
I gazed wide-eyed at where the devil touched me. “I-I want a tour of the house!”
“No you don’t. You’re just trying to distract me.”
“No really,” I practically cried as his hands slid up one of my calves, “it’s important to me that I know your home.”
“Our home,” he amended.
I waved my hands in the air. “Yes, yes—whatever.” I’d do just about anything so long as he stopped touching me. And acting normal-ish. He needed to act thoroughly evil.
You want him cruel, he’ll be cruel. You want his kindness, think of him as capable of it. Morta’s words echoed in my head.
Please be capable of good, I silently begged him.
The devil’s hands paused on my leg, and his mouth curved into a wicked smile. “You cannot outmaneuver me, consort. There is a reason I am known as the Deceiver.”
That made me swallow. “Please,” I repeated.
He stared at me, and I got the distinct impression he was weighing the benefits and the drawbacks of my request. “Why would I stop now when I have you on my bed, and I am minutes away from consummating this?” As he spoke, his hands drifted up my knee and began to caress my upper thigh.
I squirmed beneath him. “Because I am not leaving here anytime soon. Why rush what can be savored?”
The hungry look in his eyes deepened, and his hands stroked my skin.
I winced. It had been the wrong thing to say, but in all fairness, I hadn’t practiced how I’d outwit the devil. Nope, I’d spent all that time with Andre learning how to physically defend myself against him.
I should’ve known that all the fighting in the world wouldn’t save me from him.
And yet, the most surprising thing about this moment was the distinct lack of violence. “Why are you treating me so kindly?” I whispered.
He caressed my thigh again, and I shivered as my skin grew cold under his touch. His eyes drifted to my lips. “Perhaps I don’t want my wife broken. I reign over enough mad souls as it is. Perhaps I want her fully lucid for all eternity.”
I shuddered. Madness might be better than lucidity when it came to the devil.
“You’re lying,” I accused. Because if he was telling the truth, then that meant he wouldn’t be violent with me. At least not to the point where I snapped. And that was definitely not the devil’s style.
He smiled slyly, and his expression was full of wickedness. “Maybe I am, and maybe I’m not.”
I stared at him, brows furrowed, until his hands began moving once more, caressing and kneading my thighs.
I gasped. No, this couldn’t happen. I grabbed his hands. Fighting might not save me from the devil, but acting might.
“I want to see my room,” I demanded.
“This is your room.”
I raised my eyebrows. “If this is my room, then where are my things?” It took a lot of effort to keep my voice from shaking. To act entitled instead of scared. “I’d imagine that the devil’s consort gets to have everything her heart desires?”
The devil’s gaze narrowed. He knew I was up to something. “You will want for nothing.”
“Then where are my clothes? And my shoes? And my makeup?”
“You will get all that and more, once you accept my wedding gift,” he replied, a smile forming along his lips. He should not be amused. That usually was a sign that I was totally and completely screwed.
“Wedding gift?” I repeated, confused.
The devil studied my expression. His hands released their hold on my leg, leaving my own hands empty. I exhaled. “Yes, perhaps I’ll give you my wedding gift before you give me yours.”
I suppressed a cringe at the “wedding gift” he’d been planning on taking from me. He pushed himself off the bed and held out a hand for me.
Ignoring the proffered hand, I rose from the bed.
The devil captured my chin in his hand, forcing me to stare at him. “This is a warning, consort: I am the most dangerous creature to ever exist. I am the thing that monsters cower from, and I will not tolerate your insolence. So in the future, take my goddamned hand unless you want to see my darker side.”
My body was racked with shivers as his eyes flashed, and I felt evil closing in on me. I hadn’t realized until now that he’d kept the darkness at bay. But now, with his anger, I felt it seep into me. How long before I’d lose myself in it? What would it do to me? The devil said he didn’t want to break me, but how could he not if I was forced to always feel this?
I nodded and swallowed at the devil, not even pretending to be meek. The devil scared the courage out of me. His fingers lifted from my chin. They trailed up my cheek, and the malice drained from the devil’s eyes. He was in control once more. “You wanted a tour of the house?” he said. “I can give you one on our way to your wedding present. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.
A smile touched his face. “Then so it shall be.”
He steered me out of the room, and I almost sighed in relief. Anything would be better than what we were about to do.
I just hate it when I’m wrong.
Andre turned in time to see Oliver taking in the scene before him. His eyebrows hiked up at the carnage, and then he caught sight of Gabrielle. Oliver staggered and grabbed the doorframe. His mouth moved, but over the music blaring in Andre’s ears, he couldn’t hear the fairy’s words.
But he could see the fairy’s grief. Oliver must’ve seen the blood or felt the death that clung to her body. Andre saw the ragged sob that came from the fairy’s lips.