To Bewitch a Devil

“He said I am the final piece,” Neera said. “He said my time is near. He is going to take me, Zavian, and I don’t know where. But he is coming. I can somehow feel him when he is near, just before he appears. Now I feel him everywhere. I don’t know how, but it is something evil. Zavian.”

Her breaths came out quick, and tears poured out of her eyes like streams.

“Neera, I need you to breathe”, Zavian told her. “Breath, steady, that’s right. You will never be alone again, do you hear me? I would make sure I am always there for you as much as possible.”

“It’s what Eloise predicted, isn’t it?”

“Listen to me,” Zavian was stern. “Eloise has no control over the future, nor our lives. We can work to change prophecies and to change yours. We will start by making you a demon. I will not lose you too, Neera. If I have to scourge all seven kingdoms and have a war with the Underworld, I would, but I would not lose you again.”

Neera fell into his arms, and wept, the sound punctuated with tired wheezes. Tired of a life that battled her happiness, tired of feeling like a pawn in some bigger evil, but most especially, tired of not being with Zavian to the fullest without someone or something always ready to attack.

….

Danger has an invisible hand that touches people, even people safe behind walls. It comes in relief of safety, but also in the constant state of paranoia.

.....

Penelope saw this in the first few days after Azriel’s announcement of the estate lockdown; the maids worried about families left behind the gates, eyes wide awake at midnight because they thought they heard a sound at the window, the sound of howling winds causing screams as if an evil spirit floated above their heads.

What was worse was, no one knew exactly what that danger was. Curiosity was piqued enough in the first few days, and in some snatches of the conversations, Penelope heard them blame the demons. The war between the humans and the demons long ago still left a sour enmity in the hearts of some, and the life of being a maid was out of survival for others.

Survival, duty, whichever one, and Penelope was failing already.

Gone was her discipline the day she had kissed Azriel, and she hated herself afterward for it. She had wanted to slap the smug look off Azriel’s face, a prize she was to him, one of the women he had finally conquered.

She hated herself, even more, when she would still find the tingles of the kiss lingering in her mouth, the memory sticking to her at every time of the day, like a daily need. She would rather die than repeat that again.

She didn’t stop working in his chambers, though, and for days on end, he had barely slept in his bed. She wished him well, that she could do, for she bore the demon no evil of bad wishes.

It was an unlucky day for her when she smoothened out his newly laid bed and he walked in his armored garbs. He smiled at her and closed the door behind him.

“Didn’t think I would miss you this much,” he said.

Penelope’s stomach lurched with something close to desire. She hated her body for that.

“I have been meaning to talk to you, my Lord,” Penelope’s back straightened, mustering as much dignity as she could. “The other day was a lack of diligence on my part and a mistake that won’t repeat itself again.”

Azriel folded his arms. “Which other day is that? I am going to need you to be specific.”

“You know what I am talking about, my Lord.”

“Do I now? Refresh my memory then. I will sort out the details when you do.”

Penelope bit down on her tongue. She was not going to play this game with him. She glanced at the closed door, and Azriel noticed.

“I am not holding you, prisoner, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I’ll be out then, my Lord.”

Penelope took fast steps to the door, but before her hand could open the knob, Azriel pulled her back, and her back pressed against the door. He was close, too close for her likening. Everything was going so wrong already.

“You still haven’t specified what you are talking about, Pen,” Azriel said.

“What’s going on out there?” Penelope asked instead. Azriel’s expression transformed into the one reserved for battlefields, and Penelope’s fear crept up.

“You shouldn’t bother yourself with that.”

“I am not, I just want to know.” Penelope managed to say. “I want to know why only humans, and what’s taking you out of this premises for days.”

“Is this your way of saying you missed me, too?”

Penelope detected the diversion, but she stayed on course.

“What if nowhere is actually safe for us?” Penelope asked.

Azriel pulled back only slightly, slight enough for Penelope to release a breath she wasn’t aware she held in. His gaze lingered on her face, his expression on lockdown. It was hard to tell what the demon was thinking.

“I am doing the best I can, Pen,” Azriel said. He sounded tired. “And that’s what I want to keep doing, the best I can. I have left some of my best men to guard this place, so even if anything happens, they will handle it. That’s the only assurance I can give.”

“Some of the maids have families.”

“I know, but I can’t bring them all in, Pen,” Azriel said. “There are guards all through the Kingdom, and there hasn’t been a direct loss to someone in here”. He was back to taking up her personal space. “I just need you now, Pen.”

He drew in closer, and her body was welcoming him, craving him. But logic won over lust, and Penelope put her palms on his chest before his lips could claim hers.