Page 12 of Raising the Sun

He laughed nervously at my show of fang. “Yeah, no.”

I shrugged in a ‘suit yourself’ motion, and with one last wary look, he leaned over the edge, and blessed me with a lovely view of his arse in the air.

He swiped a hand through the ashes before rising again quickly, his face pink from the angle. “That work?”

I stretched out my arms and nodded in appreciation, the invisible shackles around my wrists and ankles falling awayinstantly, no longer rooting me to the spot. Our tether still pulsed strongly in my chest, but I was no longer confined to just two feet of carpet, at least.

“I do not need much sleep, so I shall watch over you,” I declared, wandering over to the drab off-white armchair in the corner. There was a green pillow with embroidered leaves on it, so it wasn’t all doom and gloom.

“Fine, whatever,” the human muttered as he settled back into bed with an unintelligible gripe, but before he could hide away again, I had an imperative question to ask.

“Not to sound insensitive, my dear, and the state of your floors may be answer enough, but do you not have servants? Or a maid?”

He shot me a dry look that wasn’t strictly necessary or justified coming from someone who used their furniture as a laundry basket. “Do you honestly think I’d have resorted to joke shop magic spells if I had servants?”

“Hmm.” My enthusiasm wavered as I picked up an article of dirty clothing that I didn’t want to give too much consideration to, and threw it on the floor to make space. I felt the human’s eyes still boring into me like daggers, so I turned, smiling wider, and finally settled myself on the cushions. “Do sleep well, won’t you,” I said sweetly, lowering my voice to tack on, “As well as can be expected on that lumpy mattress.”

The creature did not dignify that with a response, he just rolled over, reburied himself in his paper-thin covers, and fell asleep. It was almost impressive that despite allthe excitement—and having a stranger in his bedroom—his breathing evened out fairly quickly. The soft, muffled snores rising from the pillows weren’t as irritating as they should have been, so I crossed one leg over the other and relaxed, my gaze fixed on the sleeping mound.

Recalling what the human had said earlier, the spell had brought me here for a reason. The need for wealth and success was but a minor part of some greater intention, and whether I liked it or not, our fates were aligned. I didn’t yet know why that ‘wizard’ had given him such potent magic, but the reason would no doubt make itself known in due course.

I’d just have to sit back, enjoy the fruits of my imprisonment, and offer his colourless life a little sparkle.

Even if he didn’t agree to the terms, I wouldn’t deny myself the chance to play with my new toy in other, increasingly creative ways. Perhaps I’d even be charitable and allow him a few freebies, if only to see those pretty eyes light up with awe.

And really, was there anything in the universe more entertaining than capturing the devotion of pretty things?

We’ll see.

Chapter four

ISAAC

Well, it wasn’t adream. I’d summoned a demon—if the scantily dressed, legs-for-days being with horns and fangs currently in my kitchen, swaying his hips to whatever song played on the TV as he madebreakfastwas anything to go by. Though, it was only seven a.m., so hallucinations were still a strong possibility.

Except, I couldn’t even luxuriate in that illusion as my awareness was, surprisingly, dialled up to a solid eighty-five. Waking up to a stranger in my flat, poking at my microwave as if it was diseased, could be thanked for that.

It hadn’t escaped me just how delayed that reaction was, but in fairness, I’d expected sleeping on it to do the trick and that, like all nightmares, it could eventually be forgotten. No such luck,obviously, so only now was the realisation slamming into me that every sceptical thought I’d ever had was a big fat lie.

I should’ve been shitting my pants, right? I mean, demons existed, and if we were being frank, how his eyes had flared wasshit-in-boxers-worthy on its own. But because I had absolutely no survival instincts left to speak of, and my priorities were a little tunnel-visioned, all my overloaded brain could focus on was how I always managed to get myself into these messes.

At that point, it had to count as a special skill. Like, seriously. This was beyond a joke, even for me and my track record. Ironic too, given my lack of belief. Well, I had no fucking choice but to believe now, did I? The evidence wasright fucking there, shaking his arse and bobbing his horned head to a tune.

Christ, those horns really were protruding from his scalp and twisting toward the ceiling. There was no mistaking it. Any of it. He wasn’t just some hot stranger who’d broken into my house in the middle of the night, was he?

Shitting shitballs.

“I would ask where you got all this stuff from, but right now, I don’t really have the capacity to give a toss.” By stuff, I meant the food strewn across every available countertop, food that I definitely did not have before.

I had the essentials—I wasn’t completely destitute—but a full fridge was a distant memory for me.

The demon peered over his shoulder, that roguish smirk of his firmly in place. “Magic,” he said, voice barely above a rasp, smooth as silk.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Of course. Silly me.”

He reached up to grab something from the cupboard and I tried not to stare at the way his robe clung to every indecent curve of his body. I really did.

“Your cabinets were bare.” He stated the obvious. “It was utterly depressing, my dear.”

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