Page 3 of A Date With Demons

This is a bit of a dig on the fact that I’m making up a story to dodge the party. Kids in Birchdale know their witch history from a young age. Esther wants me to feel welcome at the party, but I’ve already seen her future. What she doesn’t know is that she and Aaron will have a fabulous time tonight. They’ll be blissfully happy together in Salem in a few years. At least, I think that’s what will happen. Who knows, though. My visions seem to be tricky lately.

“So, I’m gonna go now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait!”

I disappear into the crowd before my friend can talk me into anything I don’t want to do.

Chapter

Two

Bragg

My prison cellhas no windows, but that doesn’t stop the rushing wind from signaling the coming of another demon.

I curl my taloned fingers around the red-hot bars, choosing injury over getting sucked into the abyss.

The air is made of flames, singeing my skin. I should be screaming in agony, but honestly, I’ve been here so long I don’t care anymore about pain.

The abyss draws back like low tide, leaving a crumpled, heaving beast in a heap on a floor made of glowing embers.

The thing makes a choking sound. I let go of the bars, wincing at the fresh burns, and approach the new demon.

“Did you say something?”

The demon’s throat gurgles, choking down air, learning to breathe in this furnace-hot atmosphere.

I squat down to get close enough to hear it.

“Why…” The sandpaper voice is pained.

I smile. “Why were you born in prison? That’s an easy one. The Accord of 1859 allows most demons their freedoms, but yousee, some of us are the ugly secret no white witches want to talk about. Succubi…war demons…we get to be imprisoned and tortured.”

The beast suddenly curls in on itself, then heaves up fluid. I’m no caretaker, so I don’t know why I suddenly find myself patting the beast on the back. When it finishes its coughing fit, it turns over to face me.

The demon is naked beneath me. Its broad, sculpted chest heaves in ragged breaths. The creature is broad and rough, far more menacing than my average build. He’s also more endowed, with an intimidating ridged cock that, even flaccid, looks like it could rearrange my guts.

That’s the problem with demons like me. Always got sex on the brain. If I were to get bored and introduce ideas too soon, well, that’s a gamble. He could tear my arms off and snap me like a twig. My body is for seduction and manipulation. This guy is clearly built for war.

“No. Why…” it starts again.

“Shh,” I tell it, urging the creature to calm down. “You just got here. Honestly, I don’t hate that I’ve got company now. We have centuries to answer questions, big guy.”

The demon’s nostrils flare. His face is remarkable. Fierce and angled, with a wrinkled, snout-like nose. Hells bells, the scents I bet he can pick up with that schnozzle. I’m envious.

It’s a face meant to strike fear into all creatures, but I cannot stop studying it.

The demon bares his fangs, and my blood runs cold with a sickening thrill. Kill me, please, and put me out of my misery. I hate it here.

He doesn’t kill me.

The next thing I know, I’m under him, my back stinging against the glowing embers below us. I growl through my teeth as a cock the size of Thor’s hammer digs into my leg.

Something tells me I’d better answer his questions, and fast. So much for killing time discussing the finale of The Sopranos.

“I mean. Why…why do I…exist?”

Gazing up into the fresh new demon’s face, my black heart kicks to life. His hard features barely mask the inner agony. He wears the kind of pain that I’ve learned to shove down and ignore. No one wants to fuck with a succubus who looks down in the dumps.

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