Page 77 of Devil's Deal

I blink hard, disappointment and humiliation weighing like stones in my gut. On top of it all, my head pounds with pain, my vision going blurry. I blink time and again, trying to right myself, but I’m suddenly so tired. It’s like all the exhaustion Woland’s blood kept away comes rushing back, and the shock of it is too great to bear. I shiver, my knees going weak.

Meanwhile, Woland wades into the river and snaps his fingers. All at once, a circle of soft golden lights surrounds us both, mellow and flickering. I breathe shallowly, trying to get my bearings. When he stops in front of me, the water barely covering his hips, he raises my pot of soap up to his face and takes a long sniff.

“Mmm. Lovage,” he says softly. “Are you hunting for a lover?”

Damn him. I’m in pain, humiliated, and utterly annoyed now. I make to snatch my soap out of his hand, but he raises it high over my head with a laugh.

“Call it nicely again and maybe I’ll give it to you,” he says with a mocking look. “But first, answer my question.”

“Lovage is supposed to repel evil,” I say, which is completely true and the very reason why I use it in my soap. “I’m dismayed it doesn’t work on you.”

He laughs, shaking his head once. “Maybe you don’t want to repel me.”

I try to scoff but can’t keep back a wince. My head hurts like a menace, and I press my fingers into my temple, trying to make it go away. “So you admit you’re evil?” I ask, my voice coming out muffled and tense.

Woland doesn’t answer. He grabs my hand and takes it away from my face, his other palm settling possessively on my nape. He tilts my head back, making me look at his face. My pot of soap hovers at his side, suspended by magic.

“You used it all up, didn’t you?” he asks, looking intently into my eyes. “Such a gluttonous little witch. I gave you a day’s worth, and you burned through it within hours.”

“What?” I snap, the pain too much to control my manners.

“The magic,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the side of my neck. “My blood is pure magic, and you used it all up. So careless.”

I close my eyes, biting back a whimper of pain. My head swims, my body growing deceptively light, and I know I’m minutes away from collapsing. If I don’t get to the bank, I’ll drown.

“So mortal,” the devil whispers, his fingers tangling in my hair. “You’re like one of your poppies, Jaga. My magic kept you alive as long as it lasted, and now, look at you. Wilting by the second. It felt good, didn’t it? Invincible. Divine. Would you like some more?”

I make to shake my head, but more pain bursts behind my eyebrows. I try to open my eyes but see nothing. It’s like I’m blind. True fear settles in, because I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

“I’ll make it go away, poppy girl,” he says, his lips at my ear, his arm around my back, holding me up.

I lean on it shamelessly, too weak to keep standing. His breath is hot against my ear, and I’m suddenly freezing, the river leeching warmth from me. I gasp and press closer, his body heat like salvation.

He makes a surprised noise but holds me to him when I press to his long legs and torso, my head lying on his chest, my arm wrapping weakly around his lower back. His cock hardens, pushing against my stomach, but I’m too busy shivering to really care.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he asks, his fingers trailing my shoulders and nape, his body so hot and strong, like an anchor keeping me conscious. “I’ll make it all better.”

My teeth chatter and it takes a few tries, but I finally stutter out, “N-not… giving you… my soul.”

He chuckles, stroking my wet hair and back. “I won’t ask for your soul tonight. In exchange for my blood, I want some of yours.”

I blink hard. The pain is unbearable, but even worse is the utter weakness. In my infirmity, I cling to him, and I just know that if he leaves me now, I will beg him to come back.

That’s what makes up my mind. I hate feeling weak and helpless above all else, so I nod. “Yes.”

It takes a mere moment, and then his thumb is in my mouth, rich, hot blood welling on my tongue. I suck it greedily and swallow, not caring that his cock jerks hard against me.

All at once, a healthy glow of power seeps into me, but it’s not enough. I want more. I want so much that I’ll never feel weak again, never depend on anyone, and so I suck on his finger, making shameless, grunting sounds of avarice.

The more I take, the harder he gets, until his shaft is like a spear trapped between our bodies. Woland makes a low, encouraging sound, his palm cradling my head. “Drink up, little witch. The more you have, the more I’ll take. Keep drinking.”

Unease tries to flutter in my belly, but it’s drowned in the flood of wellbeing. I suck greedily, harder and harder, the divine energy soaking into my bones, making me light and powerful. When the trickle dies down, the wound in his thumb closing, I dig my teeth in like a beast to make it flow again, faster and faster.

Woland grunts when I bite down, his hips flexing. His hand slides from my head to my back, keeping me in place, and he ruts into me, his cock sliding between us, hot and rigid.

And still, I drink. Stars burst under my eyelids, my core spasming with pleasure, and my mind explodes with possibilities. It’s like the world opens up for me, layers peeling off to reveal the hidden, the magical, the forgotten. My eyes are closed, but I feel the flow of magic, the river a lazy, sparkling current of energy, the sky a dome with tiny holes through which the stars peek in.

Somewhere ahead of me is a tree. Its branches reach the sky, its roots descending deep into the core of the world. The tree is life, energy, creation, and all that is. I feel the wind playing with its leaves and the powerful vitality of creatures nesting within its roots.

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