Page 11 of Court of Heathens

My demon’s mocking laughter follows after me.

Asshole, this is all his fault.

DEMON

I watch Freya go with a shake of my head. Was she really going to trap me? She’s tried to get rid of me over the years in a lot of different ways, but I thought we were past that. I thought she understood I’m here to stay.

Apparently not. My feelings might even be hurt if I had any.

“A demon hanging around a witch,” Phrixius murmurs. Yes, I know who he is. There aren’t that many gods left, nor any with such golden hair and eyes. This is the god of magic, and my little witchcalled him. He has the power to ruin this, so I need to be careful. I need to give him enough answers for him to lose interest. Gods are like demons that way. They don’t care after they get bored.

They want excitement after so many years of living.

“She has good snacks.” I perch on top of her table. “We both know you could break that binding spell and leave, so why don’t you?”

“Maybe I’m curious why she called me, or maybe I’m curious about why a demon is so determined to stay at my witch’s side.”

“Not yours,” I hiss before I can stop myself.

Phrixius’s eyebrow simply rises as he gracefully sinks to his knees. “Very well. So tell me the truth, demon. Give me a reason to leave, and I will allow you to stay at the side of one of mine. She is magic, after all.”

“Dark magic,” I point out, since he already knows.

“Dark or not, she is mine,” he counters. “So tell me why I shouldn’t intervene.”

I stare at the god, realising he isn’t going to leave, not just like that.

“If you help rid her of me, she will die,” I admit honestly, something that’s not easy for a demon. We thrive on lies and deception, but I see no other way out. I am uncharacteristically serious as I move to the edge of the binding spell meant for me. “You would be killing her, and that is the truth.”

“Sadly for her, I think it is,” he murmurs as he watches me.

My smirk grows as I step back. “Good, then off with you. I have some very ungodly things to say to the little witch, and our fights tend to get . . . physical.” I wiggle my eyebrows, but he simply watches me.

“Fine, but I think I’ll stay a while and see how this plays out. Plus, it’s been a long time since I was in this world. It’s about time I checked on my people.”

“Now listen here—” We both stop at the sound of a scream. It’s an internal one, but one I’d know anywhere.

Sighing, I point at him. “She is trapped in the potions room again. Be gone when I get back.” I evaporate to find my little, troublesome witch before she ends up destroying her own village by mistake.

My job truly is a hard one.

“Freya, hells,” I snap as I appear. “What are you doing up there?”

She’s hanging from the top of a bookshelf in Agatha’s house, one hand on a book, the other holding her up as ladders clatter to the floor where she can’t reach them.

“Oh, you know, just felt like hanging for a spell,” she hisses. “Help me.”

“No. Say sorry for trying to make me leave,” I demand.

“Never.”

“Fine.” I hop up on a bookshelf next to her, swinging my legs as I wait. I can see her fingers and arm straining to hold her up. She was never very good at physical exercise, and she says the only time you should run is if someone is chasing you—I put that to the test more than once and wound up being turned into a lizard for three days.

My little witch can be terrifying when she needs to be.

“It’s dusty up here. You’d think Agatha would use a spell to clean,” I comment idly as I watch her face turn red from exertion, her legs kicking at the shelves loud enough that I’m surprised the old hag hasn’t come down to find out what’s going on.

“I’ll make a note to tell her.” She puffs, her cheeks blowing wide with air as she tries to drag herself up but falls with a groan. “I’ve got this. I’m totally fine.”

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