Page 119 of Devil's Deal

“I won’t talk about it,” I promise. “But what happened next?”

He nods once and sits in his chair, comfortable but not as seductively sprawled as he was before.

“Weles did everything he could to cure his creations of the malady Perun cursed them with. He succeeded, and the mortal people started reproducing. Centuries passed, and they grew in numbers. When Perun realized how many there were, and how they celebrated Weles, who walked among them and taught them his art, he grew furious.”

I grip the edges of my stool, waiting impatiently for him to continue. But Woland raises his hand, and a moment later, my cupboard bangs open, a clean cup and a bottle of wine floating to him. He pours himself some and sends the wine back.

“I’m sorry I didn’t offer you a drink,” I say through clenched teeth, angered by his casual treatment of my home, yet too curious to risk berating him.

He acknowledges my words with a graceful tip of his chin and drinks a few sips.

“Perun and Weles fought, and Weles lost,” he says. “But the mortal race was too great in numbers, and many knew the magical arts. They were a threat to Perun, and he decided to turn them into his allies, instead, and haters of Weles. He designed a new, better version of his life-giving breath and forced Rod, his brother’s son who was conceived that day by the lake, to work for his cause.”

“The ancestral souls,” I say quietly. “But… I don’t understand. What do they do?”

He smiles darkly and passes his hand over Magda again, eliciting another trill, this one more subdued. A clear sign of the ancestral soul still sitting inside her dead body, even though her innate one apparently left the moment she died.

A chill presses at my sides, a sudden feeling of wrongness. I never questioned why the souls stayed on inside the bodies after death. Now that I think about that little bird, Perun’s creation, sitting calmly inside a cold corpse instead of fleeing like her natural soul must have done, my skin crawls with revulsion. A thing that chooses to patiently wait in such a cold, rigid space must be an abomination.

“They put limitations on mortals,” he says, his eyes glinting like yellow amber. “They imprint a love of light and fear of the dark, an affinity for Perun and his gods, and a distaste for Weles and those who serve and support him. And finally, they create a fear of magic and block the ability to wield Weles’ art in any mortal who has it. In other words, they kill everything that’s powerful and free in a mortal. The ancestral soul is not a gift.”

His eyes burn with wrath when he looks at Magda’s body, Perun’s control device chirping within.

“It is poison.”

Chapter thirty-nine

Chors

“On that note, Rod will be here soon to pick up this little bird,” Woland says, standing up. “It will be reused and sent to control another mortal before they are even born. Now, my dearest, let me remind you that you can end your people’s suffering with just three little words. As soon as you say them, I’ll take the poludnica back to where she came from.”

I shake my head with a smile. “No. This won’t work.”

He sighs, stretching his neck. “I suppose it won’t. What about a smaller trade? I can give you something you badly want, and I’d like just a trifling little favor in return.”

I press my lips together and look at him without conviction. He grins his wolfish smile and comes closer, cupping the side of my face. His fingers bury in my hair, mussing my tightly braided updo.

“You’ll love doing me that favor, little witch. So hear me out.”

I do my best to keep my voice even, though my heart flutters wildly from his touch. Oh, I long for him. There’s no hiding it.

“Fine. What is it?”

He presses his thumb to my lips, stroking to the side until they part. With a low, hypnotizing voice, he lays out the conditions of the trade.

“I want this mouth on my cock, sucking me until I come down your throat. In return, I’ll give you the secret of time magic.”

My breath catches, and I don’t know which part of the trade makes me buzz with more excitement. He’s right, I do like the favor.

Woland smiles, seeing how speechless I am. “Consider it a sign of my respect for your doggedness. You had me on my knees, which no other mortal can boast, and you still said no. I’d like to show you exactly how much that impressed me.”

His grin widens, eyes sparkling with predatory intent, and I shiver, fear and anticipation pulsing through my veins. I already know not to take his deal at face value. He doesn’t want to reward me for rejecting him. No, he’s far more likely to punish me. But how? I can’t spot the trick, but there must be one, of that I’m sure.

The trade seems way too beneficial for me, giving me the one thing he knows I desperately need. Meanwhile, what does he get out of it? Something countless women, mortal or not, can doubtlessly deliver with far more skill than me.

This is a trap. And I still want to do it.

He leans in and kisses my chin right below my lower lip. The kiss is so chaste, I blink in confusion.

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