Page 14 of The Demon Mark

“Suck,” he growled.

And fuck, she did exactly what he told her to do. She wrapped those pretty lips around his thick thumb and sucked hard.

Groaning, he waited a few moments to pull his finger out of her mouth, leaving a wet streak of her own saliva down her chin. “Who’s the demon now, oracle?”

With a grunted spell, he teleported back to his office. He’d left her there alone, but he would be back. She knew it. He knew it.

Everything in him heated too much, his power too strong, his heart beating too rapidly. With a rough curse, he unbuttoned his pants. The oracle would be his undoing, perhaps, but even as he fisted himself, he knew it would be an undoing that they’d both enjoy.

6

“What do you mean, we’re moving?” Lilith asked, trailing after Joan, the fire eater, as they walked out of the stables and into the empty performance parlor. “Why are we moving?”

“The master wants us out of here.” Joan looked over her shoulder at Lilith, eyeing her up and down, before sighing. She likely viewed Lilith as an annoying little sister, but this was important. “You know why we’re moving, Lil.”

Him.

Of course, they were moving because of him.

The demon king had been back to every single show for the better part of two weeks. He never approached her again, although she knew when he was looking for her. All of them did. He asked about her nonstop, especially walking up to Joan when she was done performing.

Envy had clearly picked out the fire eater as the weak link in their bunch. She was the woman who was most easily manipulated. Most people thought it was because she was part dragon. The idea of romance fit in with the dragon’s way of mating for life. But Lilith had seen the way the other woman looked at the demon king. There was interest in her eyes, and interest beyond seeing a friend cared for.

“I don’t want to move,” Lilith said, although as soon as the words came out of her mouth, she cast her glance to the side to make sure no one had heard her say it. The master would beat her for them, or worse, he’d take away the tea like he’d been doing a lot lately.

Joan’s nostrils flared before her gaze turned wary. “Lil. You’re misting.”

Shit. Of course she was. Any time she started feeling strongly one way or another, her powers got out of control. This was why she needed the tea. She needed to be controlled, and her master knew that.

But right now, she was being punished. She was told that she wasn’t good enough for the tea and she had to suffer through her own inadequacies.

Sighing, she nodded and moved to the side so Joan could get past her without walking through the mist. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll... go off somewhere by myself for a bit and get ahold of everything.”

“See that you do. We have to pack up soon, and no one is going to pack your stuff for you.”

She knew that too. Lilith had once been deeply lost in her own visions when they had to move, and the master had left all her things behind. All the items that she’d had since she was a child. Her favorite necklace that always made her remember a past with a soft skinned woman who had held her against her heart. Her favorite gloves that were soft and warm on the inside. Even her chipped teacup, the last remains of the life she’d left behind. All of it. Gone in an instant.

As it was, she couldn’t pack anything in this state. The mist was pouring off her now. She’d be a danger to anyone who was packing their own rooms, so she either needed to stop misting, or wait for everyone else to be done and then rush.

There were few areas where she knew she would be alone, but there were a couple she never hesitated to visit. The master packed some rooms last. Mostly because they held very precious objects, or ones that had to be packed carefully because they were delicate. And one of those rooms was more hers than anyone else’s.

Her master sometimes withheld the tea long enough for her to completely sink into her powers. She hated it when it happened, because time slipped away. During those moments, she prophesied much more than just personal history. One of the other performers would sit with her and write down everything she said.

She spoke of natural disasters that could take out an entire kingdom. An illness that would kill hundreds. A war that was coming and could be stopped if someone knew what to do with the details. All of these things were written down and carefully stored on scrolls that were each kept in their own slot.

Her master tried to organize them by guessing what time period they would happen. It wasn’t an easy job, but he did it.

The room was filled from the floor to ceiling with scrolls. Each one fit into its own little wooden shelf, all of them stacked on top of each other a hundred times over. So many scrolls, and so many prophecies.

Running her fingers over the ancient paper, she listened to the vague crumbling sound. The scrolls sometimes even sounded like whispers. Like they told her about the things she had said while she wasn’t in her right mind. The smell in the room was her favorite. Ancient paper and hundreds of dreams all put together in a singular place. It made her so happy every time she was here.

This was the only time she was thankful for her power. There was hope here. Just waiting in these scrolls for someone with influence to find them. Someone who would then know what to do with this information and maybe bring about a better age.

Sighing, she tried to still her mind. There was so much wrong with feeling emotional about them leaving. This place wasn’t safe for any of them to remain in. The demon king was watching them a little too closely, and above all else, he was watching her.

What use did he have for an oracle? She had no idea.

But it couldn’t be any good. No one wanted an oracle for good things.

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