Page 13 of The Princess and the Demon

“Balail.” I say, a simple greeting.

“My Lord.” She responds, dipping in acknowledgement.

Balail was a lesser demon put into my service by my Master. I was fairly certain she was a spy, but I never bothered to prove it.

I had nothing to hide.

She was tall, with ruddy red skin and long legs. She had black hair that fell straight and long down her back, and a red tail that whipped back and forth with a life of its own.

Dark markings covered her arms and legs, like stripes on a tiger.

She always dressed in things she knew would bring me pleasure, and today was no different. She wore a long skirt that bore a slit down both sides and was cinched with an ornate belt.

Her breasts were left bare and sat high and pert on her chest.

I watch as she regards me with her golden eyes, walking to the fireplace. She snaps her fingers, and a large fire roars to life.

I watch the sway of her hips.

I had taken my pleasure in her body many times, and if I wasn’t so preoccupied, tonight would be no different.

Balail turns to me, regarding my quiet demeanor. I don’t miss the way her eyes rake over my body, or the way her tongue flicks out to wet her lips.

Her eyes fall to the parchment in front of me.

“When do you leave?” she asks, walking to stand behind my chair.

I sigh heavily, leaning back against the backrest.

“Tomorrow night.”

She places a hand on my shoulder, kneading her fingers into the taught muscle.

I groan, allowing my head to fall forward.

“You’ll return with the child. Do you have any plans for him yet?”

She kneads, leaning down to brush her lips over my ear. I shake my head lazily.

“We will make a place for him, and when he is old enough, I am sure you will figure out what to do with him.”

I nod slowly, my head bobbing as she continues to knead my sore shoulders.

Balail reaches a hand around the front of me, raking her claws over the markings on my chest. I reach up and grab her hand, stilling her.

“Not tonight, demon.” I growl.

She hisses, yanking her hand from my grasp.

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she sashays away.

“As you wish, master.” The words mock me as the air shifts, and she’s gone.

I growl, rolling the parchment and returning it to its place on the shelf. Pushing away from the table, I walk to the fireplace, placing my hands against the hearth. I look down into them, willing them to show me something, anything.

A child in this place was not something I was ready to deal with. I had no idea how to care for a child. Human children took forever to grow.

By the time the child was of any use to me I’d grow tired of waiting.

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