Page 6 of Devil Bound
“Excuse me, but can I sketch him?”the painter asked.
Trony clicked her tongue.“No, you cannot.He’s pathetic, and he smells like angel butt, and that’s coming from me, the only angel in the building.He doesn’t deserve to be in a painting.”She crossed her arms.“You’ve watched dozens of these fucking rom-coms, and they all go the same way.They get together, they break apart, they get together again, and then if it’s a good one, they get naked together.That new TV?It’ll be ruined like your sex throne if you keep this up, and you know what I did to your sex throne.”
I’d thought her glee about that chair would fade soon, but she was hanging on to it with the bite strength of a medium-sized alligator.Yes, every now and then I had enjoyed sitting there during a celebration, but that didn’t make it a “sex throne.”I’d only had sex on there a couple of times, give or take.
“What did you do to the sex throne?”asked the painter.I saw him sketching, but I wasn’t interested.I looked away.
Why hadn’t Nelly come back here?Why wasn’t he begging to feel my cock inside of him yet?
I rubbed my face with my hands.“Maybe it’s amnesia after all, and he forgot where I live.”
Trony rolled her eyes.I could almost hear her annoyance.If her annoyance were a raccoon, it would have invaded my trash can, would have nested there and feasted every night while I lay dreaming of the pretty necromancer knocking on my door and begging.
“He doesn’t want you because, and write this down,you smell of angel ass.”
“But, Trony—”
“Everything in this house ispristine.I cleaned every nook and cranny after the builders.You could eat off these floors.And yet, you stink.”
I ignored the witch heir staring at the handyman’s butt as he fixed her pipes and leaned back.“Painter?Painterling?Tell it true, do I really reek?”
The artsy person cleared his throat and clutched his sketchbook to his chest.
“Everyone has their limits and is used to different things.For example, my college roommate once got drunk, threw up, and then slept on the bathroom floor.He stank, you know.”
“Like angel butt,” Trony said.
“But, Trony, I’m waiting.”
She looked confused, but then her lips pressed tight, and her eyes shimmered with furious sparks.
“Are you telling me you’ve parked your ass down here because you’re waiting for that human to come calling?The one who ran away from you?”
“He didn’t run away from me, he just wanted to pay me back.When he had done that, he left, but he didn’t run.”
“Payback’s a bitch,” the painter whispered.
I craned my neck farther back.“Why are you taking sides?A moment ago you wanted to paint me.I would have offered to pose in the nude, but not with that attitude.”
Trony faced the artist.“I have been dealing with this for a very long time, and there are few things I get to savor while handling this one.You better make those paintings as large as a leviathan’s butthole and naughty as a nun’s thoughts because admiring them will be one of the few joys in my life.”
He wrote that down.“You also said you want them classy?”
“Of course I want them classy.If I want the place to look like the middle of a porn shoot, I just call a few people over.Come to think of it, Lucy, how would you feel about an orgy?A few nice humans who won’t ghost you.”
Her words were like thorns, and I jumped right up.Trony took a step back and wrinkled her nose.
“He didn’t.He’s just not been back yet, but he’ll come.And then I’ll make him come.I may draw it out, but I always deliver.I’m the Devil, after all.”
The artist was still taking notes.This was either cause for celebration or concern.
Trony started doing some kind of yoga breathing technique before putting on a saccharine smile.
“Lucy.Have you ever considered that you’re thinking about this all wrong?”
“No.”
“Yeah, that was rhetorical.My point is, perhaps instead of smelling up my couch, you should be the proactive element.Read a few more of your smutty books, fuck, watch more of those yucky cishet movies even.Figure out how to romance someone who, by nature, likes what most other human magic users loathe: dead shit.”
