Devil's Punch

by Ann Aguirre

  Apparently, Greydusk wanted me to wear a satin brocade gown with a jeweled belt and a formal headdress. It looked like a combo of the shit they made Amidala wear in those awful Star Wars prequels and crazy Ren Faire garb run amok. Yeah, there’s no way. Over my dead body, I put one of those on. Chance came to stand behind me, wearing nothing but his boxers.

  Damn.

  He really was breathtakingly beautiful. His hair was long and shaggy, gleaming like a raven’s wing. It looked like my hands had been in it. His face? Well, that had always been sculpted to splendor beyond human limits. Since I’d left, he’d spent more time working out, more time sparring, and the result was a body that could make me stop and stare. I’d never seen anyone with an eight-pack before. When he caught me looking, he ducked his head, inexplicably shy, and it delighted me.

  “You’re gorgeous,” I said. “I mean, you always were, but in a more GQ, impervious way.”

  “Now?”

  “I can’t look at you without wanting to touch.”

  His eyes widened, but so did his smile. I never would’ve been so honest about my desire before; my confidence wasn’t up to the mark. Back in the day, I’d worried that he’d feel like he had to lie if I said something like that, because clearly I wasn’t his physical equal, and I avoided the subject instead of addressing it. I pretended the looks we got from other women, the oh my God, you’re seriously a couple stares, the she must be a freak in bed speculation, didn’t bother me. This time it really didn’t.

  Yet I stopped myself from going to him. With Sybella breathing down my neck and a comatose dog to worry about, I couldn’t be making out with Chance. Even though I wanted to. And that was a little worrisome. Not that he wasn’t totally kissable, but when in Sheol, I had to wonder if the demons were fucking with my libido. I wasn’t going to dance to their tune.

  So with a faint, regretful sigh, I hauled the least offensive garment out of the wardrobe. In side drawers, I discovered their idea of underpants suitable to my station. Chance’s jaw dropped. And I stifled a scream of frustration.

  “Seriously?” I said out loud.

  “That’s so…” He was grinning.

  “I hate you. Go take a cold shower or something.”

  While he mercifully did as I ordered, I scrambled into the ridiculous contraption. The undergarment was all one piece, designed to pinch and push up, and give me a demon-style body with impossible curves. It was a little hard to breathe after I got it on, and then I pulled the dress on. The fabric slithered in a disconcerting manner as I smoothed it down. Then, to my horror, I saw it…moving. Tightening. I went to yank it off, suspecting it would try to kill me, and then I realized it was shaping itself perfectly to my demon-enhanced silhouette.

  Holy shit.

  Light as air, it felt like wearing nothing at all. There had to be magick involved, because with the dress on, even the horrible corset-thing didn’t bind like it had. Naturally demons would think of something like this since they lived for temptation. And what better way to drive men crazy? I was eyeing the headdress when Chance stepped out of the bathroom. He stopped in his tracks, towel in hand.

  “Dear God.” His voice went hoarse.

  I admit his expression gave me a purely adrenal thrill, like if I offered him the slightest encouragement, he’d back me up against the wall and do me hard with my elegant gown around my waist. And what woman didn’t love that feeling?

  Focus, I told myself.

  “There are clothes for you, too.” I broke the spell over him by using my words.

  He exhaled and gave himself a slow shake before crossing to get dressed. Then I went to check on Butch. The dog still couldn’t be roused.

  Heartsick, I paged through the blue grimoire, muttering to myself. Chance skimmed the other one alongside me. I wanted to believe he cared as much as I did. After all, he’d been there when we adopted the dog. Together, we almost constituted a family. Maybe we were if the rules were generous in their definitions of such things.

  A tear slipped down my cheek, and that made me mad. My dog lay like a tiny statue, unresponsive. Even his flesh had gone cold.

  He’s not dead. He can’t be.

  But if he was, I would ascend and level this place.

  Without much hope, I tried a couple of spells, but Greydusk pounded on the door again and worry laced the impatience of its tone. “We truly should not keep Sybella waiting.”

  Well, Chance was ready—and he looked like a prince. No shit, he really did. He wore black trousers, a white shirt edged in silver, and a sleeveless surcoat, which wasn’t exactly what I’d call a vest. With a sword belt and a couple of rapiers, he could have starred in an adventure movie.

  “Butch will be okay,” he said, soothing me with hands on my shoulders.

  I squared them. Sure. Just like Shannon would be. With me at the helm and his luck staining me as we went along, there was no way this could go bad. I kept the thoughts to myself as I stepped out into the antechamber, where Greydusk was waiting for us. Not surprisingly, the demon looked the same as the day before.

  “It’s about time,” it muttered.

  But that didn’t prevent the Imaron from sweeping me a surprisingly elegant bow. Court manners, I knew instinctively, though why I’d recognize them as such when I’d grown up in a cursed Southern town so small you could blink and miss it, I had no clue. Movies, I thought. Or maybe it was more inborn knowledge that Kel had mentioned, bred in my blood and bone from the genes I carried.

  “Shall we?” I ignored the obeisance.

  With unpracticed hands, I lifted my skirts and followed Greydusk. Gilder had gone at some point, leaving another hauntingly exquisite Luren in his place. This one was darkness with an inky river of hair and eyes that shone like polished obsidian in his dusky face. I swept past with less than half a glance; that was the way I had to roll here. In Sheol, I might find land mines everywhere.

  Greydusk did not greet him, so I passed down the hall in silence. When we reached the imposing double doors, the demon paused. “Remember my warnings. Agree to nothing. You must bargain with her for sufficient freedom to investigate the city and find your friend or she will hold you as her benign hostage.”

  “For how long?”

  The Imaron replied gravely, “Until your will is no longer your own.”

  That was an insidious thought. Sybella didn’t need to move against me. She could just keep me here, close to her, gradually becoming seduced by the constant exposure to heady demon magick. Eventually, my will would falter, and given my performance at the Chasm of Despair, I imagined it wouldn’t take long.

  Our time’s limited. Good to know.

  I puffed out a fortifying breath and gestured for the demon to show me in. Instead, Greydusk threw open the doors and boomed in an impressive voice, “To the assembled august personages of the Luren court, I present to you Her Highness, Corine Solomon, the Once and Future Queen, now and forever more, the Binder!”

  What. The. Fuck.

  With an introduction like that, I had no choice but to put some swagger in my step. I entered the room bareheaded, chin high, and I was thunderstruck to find myself surrounded by Luren. The aura was dizzying, so strong I almost blacked out from the collective sensual overload, but the charm bracelet Tia had given me pulsed on my arm. Pain lashed up to my elbow, but it also settled my head. Likely it wasn’t supposed to work that way, but magick never hit dead center where I was concerned. Things went wrong or backward; at the moment, I was grateful I could think.

  This was Sybella’s version of an ambush, then. In confronting me with the assembled might of her court, she’d calculated that I would buckle and I’d be her slave—one way or another—by the time I left this room. And without Tia’s help, it might’ve gone down like that.

  Beside me, Chance collapsed. My heart twisted with fear, but I couldn’t show too much concern or they would realize how much he meant to me.

  Instead, I offered a wintry smile. “It is a pleasure.” Most of th
e Luren knew I meant I’d rather eat glass than make nice with them, but they did seem impressed by my fortitude. Who the hell knew how long it would last? I skimmed the room instead of approaching Sybella. “But do you truly mean to conduct our business amid such a multitude? How…egalitarian of you.”

  By her sharp sound, she knew precisely what I meant. “Guards, clear the room, save for Gilder and Lash.”

  In short order, the minions carried out her command. When the influence dulled, Chance stirred at my feet. Greydusk helped him up. I held myself stiff and still, conscious of Chance swaying at my shoulder. It had to be weird for him, hearing me described this way, even stranger that I’d stood against their charms. He’d found me clerking at a dry cleaners for fuck’s sake, but it was no less bizarre for me, remembering that Greydusk had called him a godling. And maybe that was why he’d felt that “click” he tried to explain; it had been our mutually odd heritages perking up.

  Greydusk stepped up on my other side, so that I had an honor guard of my own. I felt pretty sure he wouldn’t let Sybella get within touching distance, and I wouldn’t look into her eyes.

  Fixing my gaze over her left shoulder, I said softly, “You did something to my pet. Not one day, and you’ve already broken your promise.”

  She hissed out a breath at the boldness of my sally. “You dare to call me oathbreaker, here in the heart of my strength?”

  “Only because it’s true. You promised no harm would come to me in your house, and yet my dog won’t wake up. I love my dog. Therefore, I am upset. Worried. Hurt, even. And that is harm, by any definition.”

  Greydusk made a soft sound. I heard approval in it. Strength surged through me, surety. I knew how to talk to demons. I knew how to push them and twist them, manipulate and force them to my desires. It wasn’t something I had ever learned, but I knew it, like the curve of my own cheek or how to breathe as I slept.

  Shit. I really was the Binder. I had the old king’s magick, along with my mother’s. What that meant for the future, I couldn’t guess. I could only steer with one unshakable goal in mind.

  Save Shannon.

  Or die trying.

  “You are owed recompense,” Sybella muttered. “You may ask one boon before our true negotiations begin.”

  The knowledge came to me in a barely heard whisper, like there was someone else in my head. She wants your loyalty to the Luren, above all others, and your promise to raise them high when you break the castes wide open. Alarmed, I searched for the knowing presence, but it fell quiet, leaving me with a pervasive sense of dread. Well, creepy whispers aside, I understood what Sybella wanted. And she wasn’t getting it. I just had to buy some time.

  “You will grant me one week’s grace, as the time runs in this realm, to see the sights in the city and take Xibalba’s measure. Greydusk will stand as my guard and guide. You will not interfere by means direct or indirect with him or me, which includes those under my protection.” With a gesture, I indicated Chance. “That also extends to my dog, of course, whose health and awareness you will restore at once.”

  “Well said,” Greydusk whispered with approval.

  By his tone, I gathered I had made the agreement sufficiently watertight. I didn’t need to keep her from scheming. I just needed this week before I made a true enemy of her. Right now, I thought she respected me. She’d expected a weaker opponent, more susceptible to her particular allure.

  “It shall be done. Gilder and Lash stand witness.” Sybella whispered then in demontongue, a spell that made my skin try to crawl off my bones.

  “What—”

  But before I could complete the question, Greydusk reassured me in a low voice. “She’s removing the ensnarement spell on your mammal.”

  “Why did she mess with him anyway?”

  “She may have thought you intended to use the creature as food and believed she was assisting you in rendering it docile.”

  “Oh.” Gross. “I guess the Luren don’t meet too many humans.”

  “Not unless they’re summoned in sex rituals and those lucky few tend not to return to Sheol.”

  “Our business is tabled…for the nonce.” Sybella’s voice indicated she’d like to give me to her minions and let them do terrible, degrading things to me.

  “See you next week.”

  Somehow I made it out of the room without revealing how much the encounter had taken out of me. Once the doors shut behind me, I stumbled, reached for the wall, but Chance was there. He was shaky, but together we kept our footing.

  His expression was all confusion and raw wonder. “I’ve never seen you like that. You were…magnificent.”

  I leveled a shaky gaze on him. “If you say ‘regal,’ I’ll punch you in the junk.”

  “You’re sexy when you threaten me. But how did you keep them from putting you on your ass?”

  Holding up my wrist, I said, “Tia’s charm.”

  “Handy. I should’ve had her make me one.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think she can just whip them out. It’s powerful.”

  Greydusk emitted a sigh. “Can we move along, please?”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “Your first mission is to locate me some decent street clothes. I assume people don’t dress like this all the time?”

  The Imaron looked amused. “Indeed, no. The lesser castes would be put to death for donning royal silks…and many of my brethren don’t wear clothing at all.” It gestured at its own form.

  “Right. Well.” This time I led the way. I’d marked the route he took, and the floor tiles made it easy to remember.

  Greydusk excused itself to carry out my request. And I decided I could get used to this. When I stepped back into our chambers, Butch greeted me with a noisy yap and a lot of prancing in circles and whining. Then he got a good look at me and cocked his head, ears flapping. He growled.

  “I know,” I said. “I’m working on it.”

  Muttering about ungrateful dogs, I hunted up Chance’s backpack and set out Butch’s collapsible food and water dishes, then filled them. He set to with a vengeance. I guessed being enscorcelled made animals work up quite an appetite. When I glanced up from tending the Chihuahua, Chance was eyeing me with barely concealed amusement, tiger’s eyes gleaming like topaz.

  “What?” Then I realized.

  Yeah, it was pretty incongruous for me to be doing chores dressed like this. I tugged at the gown that fit me like a second skin and was relieved when it gave. Otherwise, I didn’t see how I could get it off. Under Chance’s intent gaze, I stretched the fabric and then pulled until it slithered over my head in a sinuous motion that seemed…sentient to my jangled nerves. That left me standing in the demon-corset.

  “Could you get my laces?”

  He came toward me, dreamy-eyed with lust, with the easy grace that once rendered me boneless with desire. It still did, I realized, as he turned me. His fingers lingered on my skin as he loosened, loosened, until my breasts fell free in front. Then he cupped my waist between his palms, stroking the indent of skin, slowly gliding down to the flare of my hips.

  I listed back toward him and his arms went around me. He canted forward, his pelvis nudging the curve of my back, and grazed my bare shoulder with lips that left a trail of fire tingling in their wake. It was exquisite. Unforgettable. He’d always been a slow, careful lover, but there was a leashed wildness in him too, a side he’d never shown me. Now he did, his hands hard, as he pushed against me from behind. It wouldn’t take much for him to bend me over.

  He wanted to. I felt it in every particle of his body, and I wanted it too.

  “You’ve been teasing me for weeks,” he growled into my neck. “And seeing you that way…radiating power. Christ, Corine.”

  I puffed out a shuddering breath. Maybe it didn’t have to be sex. Relief would clear both our heads. I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t demon magick sparking our libidos, but I’d always desired him, and it would be cruel to leave him hanging again. I’d teased him in Kilmer, and if he�
�d told me the truth, he hadn’t been with anyone else since I left him. For me, there had been a few men in Mexico…and Kel, of course.

  “We’ll have to be quick,” I whispered.

  He never had been, and at first I hadn’t minded his measured lovemaking, the way he applied himself to my pleasure like a science. At first I’d screamed and thrashed and assumed he went as wild as I did. Only he didn’t. He never had. He watched and pushed me and he let go when he was damn well good and ready.

  Not this time.

  “I don’t think I could be anything else.”

  I spun in his arms, half naked, every inch a seductress in these exotic rooms. I felt disconnected from my customary fears, as if the power that turned him on still streamed in my veins. I was Circe and Aphrodite and my will was absolute. He proved just how eager he was when I unbuttoned the flat of his trousers. His shaft leapt into my hands, and I took him in my hands with bold demand, tugging, stroking. Arching, he watched my face, his gaze laser-focused on my mouth. I rose up to kiss him, hotly, endlessly. Chance gasped into my mouth and his heart slammed against mine, racing in time to his thrusts. There was no careful judgment now. His harsh breaths melted into groans, and then he peaked in my hands. Lost to everything but me. He gave himself completely, and I went wild with the surrender.

  We fell together onto the bed, and he wrapped his arms around me. Fast and frantic, I came over him and worked to a quick finish against his trembling thigh. He petted my back with clumsy hands, his eyes dazed. His lashes fluttered toward his cheeks. Once, twice. I’d never seen him so utterly undone.

  This Chance could destroy me. And he was irresistible.

  By the time Greydusk came back, we had tidied up, Butch was done eating and taking his stroll around the patio, and I was decently covered in Chance’s shirt.

  The demon paused on the threshold, sniffed, and sighed. “It reeks of copulation in here.”

  Fire washed my cheeks. “Hi to you too.”

  “I suppose one must be thankful you have one another with whom to sate these urges. It would be disastrous if you succumbed to a Luren. Gilder or Lash, for instance.”