A Demon's Contract

by Delmire Hart

  The view was as breathtakingly beautiful as it was petrifying, and he would enjoy it far more if it wasn’t freezing. Barkley shivered and clutched the metal tray closer to his chest in a desperate attempt to shield himself from the chill of the wind.

  “Face that out below us,” Zaxor commanded, and Barkley belatedly remembered the magic he’d cast on it earlier.

  His numb fingers fumbled with the task but thankfully he didn’t drop it.

  “So they can see this?”

  “Everything you aim that tray at, they can see.”

  “Can they hear us?”

  “No, it only transfers sight.”

  With that, they lapsed once more into silence. The cold seeped into Barkley’s bones until he was shivering, teeth chattering loudly enough it was a wonder Zaxor couldn’t hear them. Eventually the demon seemed to notice, as he muttered something and the wind whipping into Barkley eased. It never left completely, but it cut the wind enough that his jaw-length hair was no longer whipping about so violently as to obscure his sight, and the chill diminished enough that his shivering subsided.

  With those taken care of, Barkley found he could enjoy his sudden flight far more. The plains gave way to rolling hills and lakes, with rivers winding crazy paths through the green. He wondered how breathtaking this view would be in the summer, when the grey-green and brown of winter gave way to more vibrant hues.

  How beautiful would it have been a few years ago, when all the fields would have been full of growth before they were left to fallow in wake of the war?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Barkley lost all sense of time as they flew high over the world; all he knew was that they were firmly above Quathian territory by now. Not that he could tell the difference, other than the villages being more intact than the first few they had passed. It only reinforced the idea that they weren’t so different from each other. Yet here they were, two countries at war and honestly, Barkley didn’t even know why. He was caught in the middle of violence, and there was no reason he could think of that could ever justify the things he’d seen.

  Perhaps he should ask Max the next time they spoke, maybe he’d know what started it.

  The fields and hills underneath them gave way to more and more villages. Here and there, large patches of white blanketed the ground, and it took Barkley a long time to realise he was seeing snow. The groupings of houses increased in size, and all the forests disappeared into patchworked fields, their boundaries defined by thin fences. They were nearing the heart of the Quathian Empire, Barkley realised belatedly.

  Then he saw it.

  A huge, long, winding forest of tents. The military camp was far bigger than any of the villages or towns they had flown across. Barkley suspected it might even be larger than the entire city of Loria. This, this was the Quathian army? The slow push into Rilian territory had suggested Rilia was losing the war, but to see the sheer difference in size of their armies was an unexpected blow. They weren’t losing; Rilia had already lost.

  The only thing standing between Rilia and its downfall was Barkley and Zaxor.

  “So, they pulled back to ensure the supply lines remain intact.” Zaxor’s voice drifted down to Barkley, although he didn’t think the demon was actually talking to him.

  They circled a few times, high enough above the camp that the people looked like ants below them. Still, Barkley thought he saw a few of them pointing up at them. What would they think? Did they know about the loss of the three forward camps yet? Were they scared and waiting for them to attack?

  He felt sick suddenly. The thought of attacking all those people, the knowledge that they were just people like him, tore at him. Before, he had hardened his heart, ignored that fact in favour of his own family, but something about seeing the people so small below him broke that. Before, they were the camps directly responsible for the attacks on his home, and they had loomed large above him in the distance. Here, they sprawled out at his feet and reminded him that this was a choice he was making, no one else.

  But if they didn’t act, Rilia would fall, and Barkley refused to let that happen. It was Quathian sons and daughters, mothers and fathers.

  Or it was Rilian sisters, brothers, children.

  The soldiers before them had made a choice; Barkley’s friends and family had not. That was the reasoning he’d always used in his mind, but he still swayed when faced with the reality like this.

  Barkley startled as Zaxor tore the tray from his hands and cast it to the ground far below. Then they were standing in Zaxor’s bedroom, the floor firm below his toes. He turned to face the demon, about to ask if that was all they needed to do, and his words died on his lips.

  Zaxor was back in his usual mostly-human form, but he was hunched over and panting as though he’d just run a long distance. He reached out to the demon, concerned, but Zaxor shrugged him off as he all but threw himself on the bed. He groaned, a long drawn out noise of pure exhaustion.

  “I hate flying in the human plane.”

  “Are you okay?” Barkley questioned as he moved to sit beside his lover.

  “I’ll be fine after a nap.” Zaxor’s tail snuck out, wrapping around Barkley’s waist to topple him onto the demon’s chest. “I’m sure you could help me feel better as well.”

  He huffed out a laugh as Zaxor nuzzled into his neck, hands sneaking not-so-subtly around his hips to cup his ass. “Is that why you gave an anchor to the soldiers? Because you would wear yourself out travelling otherwise?”

  “Much more efficient to get someone else to travel for you,” Zaxor confirmed.

  Barkley huffed out a laugh as he felt sharp teeth scraping along his neck. “You should sleep,” he scolded gently, knowing it was falling on deaf ears. Still, he felt somewhat guilty about making Zaxor use so much of his energy just for a stupid scouting mission.

  “But I can think of so many more interesting activities than sleep.”

  Zaxor shuffled backwards along the bed, bringing Barkley with him. The new position left Barkley straddling the demon’s hips, clothing magicked away, leaving no doubt exactly what type of activities he was referring to.

  A small laugh bubbled out of Barkley's throat as demanding hands pulled him down for a kiss. As their lips slotted together, it was easy to give himself over to the lust curling through him. It would be nice not to think for a while. The kiss was languid, a more unhurried exploration than the heated passion he was expecting. Still, it was just enough to silence his mind as he focused on his lover.

  Slow kisses and gentle hands stroked, exploring, leisurely but almost shockingly intimate as they shared breath after breath, bodies pressed together. Barkley had only enough presence of mind to wonder if this change of pace was due to Zaxor’s exhaustion or some deepening of their connection that had passed Barkley by unnoticed.

  He lost even that small amount of mental capacity as his mind screeched to a halt, his body freezing in place, as Zaxor pushed him off in order to spin onto his stomach. The demon’s back arched as he pushed to his knees, head pillowed on his arms against the bed, and ass up proudly on display. Zaxor’s tail pulled forward, languidly swishing back and forth over his hips in anticipation.

  A cool, smooth surface bumped into Barkley’s arm and he jumped, wrenching his gaze away from the erotic spectacle in front of him to find the bottle of slick liquid being magically presented to him.

  “I’m tired,” Zaxor announced imperiously, as though he wasn’t on his hands and knees on display. “So you can do all the work today.” He huffed when Barkley didn’t move, still staring at him with wide eyes. “I’m saying you can fuck me.”

  The crude words brought Barkley’s gaze back to his lover’s ass and he reached out a trembling hand to smooth over the taught skin presented to him. Moving his hand slowly, he trailed it down into the crease of his ass to press his finger lightly against his hole, the ring of muscle fluttering under his touch. The heat of Zaxor there seeped into his hand, but Barkley found he was scared to make
any further move.

  While Barkley knew in theory what to do from his time in the opposite role, there was something enormous about this request. He couldn’t place that feeling into words, couldn’t explain why this change in roles took his breath from his lungs and weighed upon his shoulders. Contrary to Zaxor’s flippant attitude to the request, it at the very least showed a certain level of trust in Barkley.

  “You can’t hurt me, if that’s what you are worried about.” Zaxor craned his head back to look at Barkley, his expression impatient. “At worst it will be an average, unsatisfying fuck I will teach you how to never repeat.”

  Zaxor’s thin tail wrapped around the bottle still sitting against Barkley’s thigh and waved it demandingly in front of his face. Barkley huffed out a laugh as he grabbed it, uncorking the bottle to coat his fingers first then drip some down the crease of the demon’s ass. He reached out to massage the ring of muscle carefully before pressed a single finger inside.

  A quiet hum of appreciation met the action, but Barkley was barely paying attention. The heat surrounding his digit was shocking, the clenching muscles giving way to velvety warmth.

  “Fuck,” Barkley muttered in reverence. This was what it felt like? No wonder Zaxor seemed to enjoy fingering him so much. And what would this tight heat feel like wrapped around his cock?

  Zaxor pressed his hips back, forcing Barkley’s finger deeper inside in demand. Carefully, ignoring Zaxor’s sounds of impatience, he began to move. All his focus was centered on his task and just revelling in the soft heat of his lover. It was only when Zaxor’s tail poked at his other hand that he thought to bring it up to stroke across the demon’s back and down his thigh, the attention mimicking what Zaxor would do for him. Barkley smiled as he received a pleased hum of appreciation at the action before steeling himself to press in a second finger.

  The ring of muscle at Zaxor’s entrance clenched in faint protest at the stretch, and Barkley marvelled as he felt it begin to accept his attentions more easily. The soft, pleased noises increased in volume and frequency, and Barkley used those to gauge his efforts. Another finger, more pressure, a differing speed. His own focus was so hell bent on pleasing his partner that his own length sat hard but forgotten.

  Right up until Zaxor pulled away and pushed Barkley flat on his back with magic. The demon swung a leg over Barkley’s waist to straddle him, impatience lining his face.

  “I want to be fucked, not teased,” he snapped, the words softened by the presence of his straining cock drooling against Barkley’s stomach. “So much for not doing all the work.”

  Without preamble, Zaxor reached back to wrap his hand around Barkley’s length and lined himself up. A gasp of surprise was quickly overtaken by a long moan as Barkley sunk deep into the wet, grasping heat of his lover’s body. Zaxor groaned as well, stretching his body as he threw his head back to expose the line of his throat.

  It was all he could do to hold on, hands curling around Zaxor’s hips as Barkley rolled his hips, testing the position. An odd, punched out groan left his lips when the demon began to move in earnest, Zaxor smirking down at him at the noise.

  It was pure instinct that had Barkley pressing his hips up to meet each roll of Zaxor’s hips, and together they found a rhythm. Little shockwaves of heat zapped through Barkley's body to pool low in his gut as his orgasm built. Shifting his hold on Zaxor, Barkley wrapped a fist around his length, determined to pull his lover across into orgasm with him. If he didn’t at least manage that, he’d never hear the end of it.

  Barkley didn’t quite manage to get his fist to move in time with each roll of the demon’s hips, but it was enough to send him to completion, his spend striping Barkley’s stomach. The clutching, velvety warmth milking his cock overwhelmed Barkley's thoughts as he came as well. He sucked in gasping breath after gasping breath as he tried to reorient himself, whining as Zaxor ground his hips down onto his oversensitive cock.

  “Not a bad effort.” Zaxor smirked as he rolled his hips again, the smirk widening as Barkley clutched at his hips desperately to hold him in place. “Worthy enough of a repeat performance to practice, at least.”

  Barkley groaned as Zaxor pulled off, the slick sound their bodies made as they pulled apart obscene. A few muttered words of magic and they were clean, the sheets rearranged, with Zaxor lying spreadeagled in the middle of the bed. He pulled Barkley up to lie against his chest, the demon’s horns allowing only for this position. Barkley smiled at the gesture, tucking his head under Zaxor’s chin as he settled in. He wasn’t tired, but he was happy enough to comply with the unspoken demand to stay there until Zaxor fell asleep.

  ***

  Barkley dressed quietly, finding odd bits of his clothing scattered across the room. He was sure Zaxor could magic them all off into one neat pile, but apparently it took too much thought to bother doing so in the moment. Dressed, although looking a little rumpled, he slipped out of the bedroom, intent on heading down to the library. Instead, Barkley was stopped by Frederick, who was approaching carrying a platter of food. It was covered in cold sliced meats, cheese, fruit, and bread, the perfect array to leave out until they awoke.

  “Barkley,” Frederick said by way of greeting. “I was just about to drop by with food.” He raised the tray before nodding his head back towards the door. “You should sit and eat something.”

  With nothing else to do and Frederick’s intense stare making it impossible to refuse, he followed the mage back into the bedroom. The long curtains around the bed were pulled, hiding Zaxor’s naked form, a fact that Barkley was immensely glad for. He wasn’t in the right mindset to deal with that kind of embarrassment right now.

  “I noticed Zaxor used a great deal of his magic power today; I take it your contract is nearing completion?”

  Barkley blinked in surprise as he sat, the tray of food being placed next to him. “How did you know?”

  Frederick pulled out a small golden circle connected to a chain from his breast pocket. He held it out to show Barkley, its round face circled with runes, leaving the middle section split into two colours.

  “This shows the amount of magical energy Zaxor has left.” A glowing golden section filled up the bottom third of the circle, the two thirds above it a pale grey. “As far as I am aware, I am the only one to possess such a thing. It means that I can prepare whatever is necessary without needing to constantly call him. Seeing that your contract is to end a war, a great deal of power will be necessary to deal with the opposing army. As soon as his energy began to regenerate, I could tell that he’d returned and so organised food.”

  “He used so much, just for that?” Barkley gasped. Two thirds of his magic just to fly a scouting run? It seemed like such a waste. Could they have done things differently? It’s not like they had to fly.

  “Do not sell your soul so cheaply,” Frederick said sharply, drawing Barkley up short. The mage’s intense gaze bored into his own, as sharp as his words. “I know what you are paying in exchange for his power, it’s same price we have all paid. Do not feel guilty for demanding the contract to be completed in full, it’s what you have already agreed upon. I understand that you are tied more closely to the demon than the rest of us.” He glanced over his shoulder at the curtained bed, his expression stony. “But only regret comes from selling yourself short. Make sure whatever you have asked for is completed in full, as forever is a long time to wallow in guilt.”

  With that, he inclined his head and left, tucking the small golden artefact back into his pocket. Frederick’s words reminded him sharply of Bel and János, but also made him wonder how many others felt the same way. He had met a few more humans in his time here, but most kept to themselves, or at least avoided Barkley. How many of those also felt like that?

  He could admit to feeling guilt over what seemed like a waste of magical energy, but Barkley had no intention of leaving things as they were. It was far too important to him to leave the contract unfinished. That didn’t mean that he would stop feeling concern
over Zaxor, however.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Be careful,” Zaxor warned as they teleported to the edge of the Rilian forward camp a few days later. “Everything until now was necessary, but now they have the advantage over Quathia. It’s time to see your countrymen’s true colours.”

  Barkley had stopped by the day after the scouting mission to see if any plans had been made, but the officers had still been heavily debating the next move. Now that the pressure was removed, they seemed comfortable enough taking their time, although it irked Barkley. In the end, Zaxor needed time to rest so it worked in their favour, but that didn’t change the frustration he felt when forced to be idle.

  Tension settled across his shoulders, and Barkley fought to keep his nerves in check. Depending on the plan, this could be it. The final push to remove the last of the Quathian army and end the war beyond any doubt. If only he wasn’t so nervous. It probably showed how little he trusted the army’s officers, but Kenworth was the one with the final say, and that alone was enough to set Barkley’s nerves on edge.

  This time, walking through the camp brought many greetings, soldiers calling out when before they had mostly kept their distance. There was an excited air about the camp, as though everyone could sense that the war was nearly over. It set Barkley on edge even more.

  Just what had been decided?

  Entering the main command building, Barkley found every single officer crammed into the small space. The table Zaxor had carved the runes into sat in the middle of the room, covered in maps, with everyone standing around it. Whatever argument had been taking place fell silent as Barkley entered, and all eyes turned to him.

  “Ho, Demontamer,” Jerry called out. It had been a while since Barkley had seen the requisitions officer, but he couldn’t summon up the smile as he returned the greeting with a nod. A sense of foreboding twisted his gut as he stepped up to the table.