Page 30 of Devil Bound
I am not his enemy.I’m his boyfriend now.
Is that what you wasted your favor on?Fine.Forget I asked.Produce, flowers, kinky romance novels it is.
Juicer!
Trony was good, but sometimes, I did worry about her focus.And her attitude, but there was nothing I could do about that.
I walked past the buzzing, blooming plants to the nearest crossroads.This one featured corner stores, but I needed to get going, so I seized the crossroads magic to teleport to the one near my house.I didn’t need crossroads magic to teleport, but my mind was still occupied with thinking about Nelly, so this was just easier.
On the wave of teleportation magic, I appeared at my crossroads, protected by the extended property line and safe harbor in case I was ever viciously attacked.Today, one of the bees had followed me, and it buzzed off into the sun now, likely confused.
“Find flower juices here, you cute little thing.Though you won’t find anything as sweet as what I am about to savor.”
The bee would be happy though, I was sure.I’d laid out wards and spells to make the lack of houses around my property difficult for city planners and whoever might take objection to that slice of nature I had preserved in the heart of the city to notice.
The bee would be happy here, would maybe even find bee friends near the lake or my outdoor Jacuzzi.Perhaps it would even get to watch me with a pliable necromancer on my cock.What a lucky bee it would be.
I sighed and pulled my shades off.I was, of course, getting ahead of myself.Nelly would require someTaming of the Shrewmethodology, unless he hit his head really hard during work, got amnesia—possibly for the second time—and I could tell him we’d been lovers for years.
Thinking back on it, I should have told him that when I first laid eyes on him, when I’d rescued him from underneath the de-animated zombie.I would have made him mine much faster.I’d have him now, would be able to keep him to myself and watch thunderstorms from the tub in my glass-fronted bathroom while I had him, his moans louder than anything the heavens could produce.
Him in the tub had been one of my favorite fantasies ever since I’d found the stubborn necromancer.Countless times I’d reimagined that meeting.In the fantasy, instead of him being downright prickly, he’d looked up at me when I asked whether he needed CPR, and said, “No, but maybe I need a kiss.To remember who I am.”
I had kissed him, obviously, and from there we’d gone on an extremely sensual and R-rated journey to discover his name.It was such a nice fantasy, but I knew reality would be so much better.
The house’s front door had been spelled to open at Trony’s or my touch.As I walked inside, taking my shoes off at the door so as not to upset Trony, I made a mental note to tell her to also spell the door to open for Nelly later.
Trony had insisted, during the last remodel, that we go for mostly white and cream tones, and she’d tossed all the knickknacks I’d collected over the years, with prejudice.She’d even gotten rid of my favorite chair, the one she liked calling my sex throne.That was a little bit regrettable, as Nelly would have looked very good sitting in my lap while I sat on that chair, but what was done was done.I’d have to find other places to get Nelly to sit on me.
Over the mantel hung one of the pieces Trony had commissioned from the mildly insolent artist who’d not seen my vision of getting Nelly to be mine.The painting was beautiful despite that.It showed a horned devil walking toward the onlooker, while to either side of him, both men and women danced in naked ecstasy.When Trony had hung it, I’d immediately forgiven her for throwing out my stuff and the painter for his rudeness.
Maybe I could add a portrait of Nelly, coming undone in my arms.I licked my lips and dropped onto the couch to watch a rom-com or two until Trony got back, but in my head I replayed my favorite fantasy, where Nelly lost his memory after the zombie attack and came home with me.
16
Lionel
Therewereeightbodiesin total, but none of them were complete.
“With any luck, we’ll still find the missing parts,” Christine said as we stood outside the tent in the late afternoon sun, she and Mitch with their notebooks out, me taking shallow, calming breaths.
I exhaled.“Yeah, with any luck.”
I didn’t sound convincing, but that was due to all the decomposition smell messing with me and making my stomach churn even if there was nothing to bring up.Mitch gave me a sympathetic look, his face lit perfectly in the orange-gold sunlight.
“We should start with her.”On her notebook, Christine circled the name of the last victim we’d found, Joanne.The head had been fresh, and I’d been able to make the ID, or rather, Joanna had been able to tell us who she was.
“Are you joining us at the station?”Mitch asked me, the breeze from the ocean ruffling his blond hair.I wondered whether it was as soft as it looked.Would he let me touch if I asked nicely?
“Of course he will,” Christine said.“We need him there.”
For once, I didn’t mind that she took charge of my afternoon.Where she went, Mitch went, and I hadn’t yet seen enough of him.Or his hair.
Mitch cocked a brow.“Need him?”
I cleared my throat.“I’m pretty good at confirming when we’ve found a victim’s home or things that belonged to them.”
I wasn’t showing off or trying to impress him.I didn’t do that.I was a professional necromancer, even in the face of Mitch’s sexiness.I was just telling him what I was good for outside of the bedroom, and—hope of hopes—maybe he’d be interested in finding out what I was good for in the bedroom later on.
