Page 14 of Deal with the Devil

“The council isn’t a fan of explicit gambling,” Maevin laughed, tossing back the rest of his wine.

“Now, pet, you understand that…” Knox trailed off.

“Whatever’s said during my time here, stays here.” She made a motion with her fingers across her lips.

“Clever girl.” He winked at her, climbing to his feet, “Come, I’ve got some work to do before I can fully retire for the night. I think I’ve got something you’ll like.”

Her face fell. “You’re not about to wax poetic about sailboats, are you?”

Knox’s head snapped back as he cackled. “No, no, come, naughty thing.”

“I already did, several times,” she muttered under her breath as she climbed to her feet. His hand found her backside sharply without hesitation. She squeaked, scrambling away from him and into the hall off the main foyer. He took her hand once more and silence fell around them a second time. They headed to his office with all the books. He snapped his fingers and the fireplace crackled to life.

“Pick any book you’d like; it’ll be about an hour.” He rounded his desk, pulling out a laptop and crystal pad, working in tandem with them. Amelia was left to wander his shelves, enticed by all the options. She found a familiar title that she hadn’t read in a while, opting for something she wouldn’t be pained to leave behind without finishing. Cracking it open, she spread out along the couch across from the fire. It was a classic movie scene, him hard at work—doing something—and she was there, draped across the leather couch, reading a book to the dulcet sounds of a wood-snapping fireplace.

She couldn’t get comfortable. As much as she tried to lose herself in the book, she kept glancing over the back of the couch at him.How did someone look so elegant while…what even is he doing?She gave up after about ten minutes of trying and failing. Eventually, she clambered to her feet and began to wander his office.

“Not in a reading mood?” he teased with a broad grin plastered to his lips, not looking up from his screen. Her eyes were scanning a massive shelf of ancient draconic tomes, their long ribbon tongues swaying before her.

“I only really read when comfy,” she confessed like a breath of air.

He didn’t say anything. When she glanced his way, his fingers were frozen on the keyboard. Finally, he cleared his throat, continuing to type. “I deserved that.”

Amelia would take away the sting. She was sharp tongued. Her mother used to scoff, calling her name with disappointment for it. Her father would always come to her defense.I didn’t build her to be a soft-spoken sweetheart.Amelia was made a fighter. Amelia was made a feral beast. Amelia was made a killer. It’s where her writing came from. Her soul begged for a way to speak about the violence in her skull. Gnashing teeth, breaking bones, blood, and viscera, she needed something to channel it. Give it a voice, put it to work, she poured her soul into those books. Female main characters that fought with their fingers and teeth, teenagers who bit first and asked questions later; it all went in there.

Amelia wasn’t a sweet person.

“I, uh, also have already read this one,” she raised the book up, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Oh, why not pick something new?” He cocked his head.

“Don’t want to be waiting to read the ending, I guess.” Amelia tucked the book away where she’d plucked it.

“Ah, fair,” he let out a heavy breath, returning to his work. “I apologize for robbing you of good reading time.”

She snorted, “You’re not sorry.”

He glanced up, those purple eyes flashing with golden lightning bolts. She was struck, turned to stone in her spot. Knox stared at her with the most bizarre, unreadable expression. Likehis mind was miles away, considering something, but his eyes were burning through her forehead. Amelia cocked a brow. He blinked back to reality. “I guess you’re right, I’m not.”

“If you were really sorry for stealing my time away, you’d give it back,” she teased, tiptoeing a step or two closer to him.

His eyes narrowed at her, a playful but warning look playing over his sharp features. “Nice try, pet. We agreed on twenty-four hours.”

“I know, but 300 hundred gold? And twenty-four hours? Hardly seems comparable.” She clasped her hands behind her back, cheekily sliding up beside his desk. Knox didn’t move or hide anything away. Instead, going for the blatant approach, she sat on the edge of his desk and looked at his screen.Emails? Really?Crime really doesn’t sleep.

“Are you insinuating I got a bad deal or thatyougot a bad deal?” He folded his fingers over his stomach as he leaned back in his chair. The fire from the hearth caught the glossy black of his horns. Orange and a rainbow of other colors danced across his oil slick tips.

“Well, why twenty-four hours?” She cocked a brow.

“Why do you write books?” He smirked.

She glared at him; lips pursed into a thin line.Alright, that’s the game you wanna play, fine.Inhaling sharply through her nose, she answered. “Because I needed a creative output, because when I was six, a dwarfish kid broke my left leg and I was strung up in bed for weeks with nothing to do and I’d already read all we had. My mom threw an empty journal at me and said ‘make your own’. And so, I found a way to pour all that energy into something and keep my brain entertained.”

He nodded, a contemplative look crossing his face. Tapping his fingers against his t-shirt, he looked far away once more. When he returned, her expectant face waiting for him, he grinned. “Because if I asked for more, you’d have never said yes.”

“Bah!” She tossed her arms up. “You’re a filthy liar, Knox. Why trade twenty-four hours with me for money? I don’t get it.”

“Time IS money, Amelia.” He sat forward, finishing up an email and sending it off.