Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

B ragg

Portia looks genuinely sad when she checks the time.

We're back in her attic bedroom, helping her clean up the mess we made.

"We don't have much time left," she says, sitting on the windowsill, the sun beginning to peek over the distant hills behind her. "You're both cleaning. Meanwhile, you're supposed to go back in an hour. We should make the most of it and…you know…teach me more things."

Her blush is radiant, and I feel my heart break.

"It will take an hour just to remove that dress of yours," says Rewd, remembering how long it took Portia to put it on, complete with the layers of bloomers, underdress, overdress, and bodice, not to mention the hair accessories. "It's better if we leave your home how it was before we arrived."

The poor guy has to crouch to keep his horns from hitting the wooden ceiling beams.

"Please," she says. "We don't have to take off the dress for this."

Portia goes to the side of the mattress and kneels down in front of it. She pats it, indicating that Rewd should sit down.

Of course. It has to be Rewd. He's a better demon than I am. He will probably get a whopper of a punishment for coming along with me.

My arousal flares as I watch Rewd shed the sweatpants he wears.

He then sits on the mattress, cradling Portia between his legs as she blinks up at him, smiling and flushed. How can she seem so perfectly sweet and innocent, yet crave so intensely?

Rewd sighs heavily. "You're killing me, witch," he says as she takes the demon-sized cock in her hand.

He's too big for her. I don't know what she thinks she's going to do, but I give her credit for trying.

Rewd's craggy skin goes tight as she holds him, stroking his massive length and cradling his balls.

"You're even bigger like this," she says.

"I am…hideous."

"No," she says.

Ignoring her, he adds, "If you do not like me like this, I can change back to my human form."

"Shh," Portia says. And then she leans in and swirls her tongue around the tip, licking away Rewd's seeping essence. "You're beautiful, my demon. Inside and out."

Rewd's eyes roll back in his head as she accepts the tip, sucking off more precum. His talons weave through her long, blonde locks as he guides her.

The tightness in my chest may rip me in half, but it doesn't bother me. I'm so happy for the big guy.

I've never felt happy for anyone or anything in my entire miserable life.

She takes more of him, and I can see that it's too much. Doesn't matter, though. Rewd is on another plane of happiness.

He locks eyes on me, then, and I see for the first time a particular mischief there. He has an idea. He wants something.

My stomach drops. He wants…me.

One gesture of his chin, and I'm there, stretched out across the head of the bed, shredding the puny human sweatpants I'm wearing.

I'm not sure how this is going to work. But I soon realize I don't have to be sure. Rewd knows what he's doing.

Without breaking contact, he lifts our little witch onto the bed, letting her rest on her back. Portia lets out an approving whimper, and moans on his cock. Rewd's face is now even with my middle, and he takes me into his fanged, fiery mouth. He does for me what Portia does for him.

I watch our witch struggle around Rewd's gorgeous shaft as he takes me deep, down until I bottom out at the back of his demon throat.

"Spit on it, angel," I instruct her.

Portia's wide, curious eyes search for me, not quite reaching me at this odd angle. I nod encouragingly anyway. "Spit on it and use your hands where he doesn't fit."

Watching her do exactly as I say makes me leak down Rewd's throat.

We three move as one. We are unaware of the sun rising in the distance, oblivious to the rushing wind stirring in the trees, reminding us that our journey back to hell will soon begin.

All we have is now, and the sound of each other's moans, the taste of sweat, the smacking of flesh against flesh. Gasping. Giving. And coming with a vengeance.

Later, as the three of us are curled up in a semi-circle of happy depletion, I run my talons through Portia's hair while under me, Rewd's heartbeat thuds in my ear.

I'll enjoy my time of listening to the little witch ramble after sex, while it lasts.

"All this time, I thought that my vision was wrong. But it wasn't wrong. I was wrong for sitting around waiting for my date to show up," Portia says, her head resting against my chest, while my head rests against Rewd's. "All along, my vision was showing me that I can make my own destiny. I can make the life that I want."

My heart clenches at that.

"You can. We cannot," I say.

Portia sits up. "Can't you? What is the price to keep you here with me?" she asks. "Both of you."

My heart beats in my throat. "I should not have said that."

She shakes her head, her mind clearly fraught with ideas now. "What was to be the price of summoning you here for one date? Maybe we could…I don't know…extend it for a little while."

I sit up and turn toward Rewd. He lets out a sigh. He knows that we can't ask her to pay anything.

"We could not ask that of you," I say, turning back to Portia. "For twelve hours of bliss between a human and a demon, the price is to drain away your will to live. For a witch, it is to drain your magic."

She thinks about this for a moment. A wicked smile pulls on her lips. "I don't feel drained. I feel energized! I feel so full of magic I could vomit a whole new grimoire full of spells right now! That's a fair exchange in my book."

"Portia," I caution, but she's not listening.

"What if I kept you? What would have to happen then? What terrible things would happen?"

She isn't as afraid of the consequences as she should be.

"It's unheard of," I say.

"So, the price isn't up to you, is it?" Portia asks. "You don't even know what that would be."

Rewd and I exchange a glance.

"We want to stay," Rewd says. "Both of us. With you. Forever."

I hold my breath. That can't be what Portia wants. The price would be too great.

"The price of one date with a demon-for-hire was apparently that I let you drain my life force, my magic. As far as I can tell," Portia says, "I'm stronger."

I stiffen when I realize what could happen. Two demons working with a witch could unleash so much pain in this dimension. Twelve hours ago, I would not have cared one iota about human suffering. Portia has changed everything.

"The price is too much for you," I say. "We may be devoted to you, but the mere breach of the accord between witches and demons would create a tear in the fabric between your dimension and the hell dimension. There would be magical warfare."

Rewd adds, "If we stay, then you are bound to us. We could never go back to hell. You are doomed to be linked to creatures from hell for the rest of your life."

She blinks. "Forever?"

"Witches live long lives," I remind her. "Demons even longer. You'll have to spend the rest of your days defending us against attacks from everyone who doesn't like our kind. You'll have to explain yourself to the witch community. Are you ready for that?"

Rewd's eyes are downcast. He knows what comes next.

The wind in the trees outside picks up, beginning to howl. "Even if the window still had glass in it, it could not stop the evil coming to collect us," Rewd says.

Portia stands up, wrapping herself in the sheet, and pads over to the spell table.

"Nothing can stop evil except white magic," she says. "Wait here."

Clutching Magda's grimoire to her chest, Portia disappears down the stairs.

Outside, the wind is picking up. Light seeps through the trees. Our time is almost up.

As we watch from the window, several cars appear in the driveway, delivering a host of witches. A couple of them arrive more dramatically by teleportation, their urgent magic crackling around them in smoke and lightning.

"I think we'd better shift," I say to Rewd, who grunts in agreement.

We shift into human form and quickly don the torn and discarded sweatpants and shorts, just as a herd of footsteps mount the creaking staircase to the attic. Mercifully, Rewd's shift goes easier and quicker this time.

Moments later, the attic is filled with witches. We are introduced to Maple, Birdie, Zena, Adele, Sirena, Amaryllis, and Portia's father, Hollis. He and Maple both waver between confusion and outrage about their daughter entertaining demons. I can't say I blame them.

Esther nods, obviously surprised to see us looking like humans.

"Right," Esther says, twirling a knife in the air with no hands, "Who are we fighting?"

"Put that away, dear," Maple says, shaking her head.

Hollis clears his throat, eyeing Rewd and me suspiciously. "Maybe not yet," he says.

Rewd and I exchange a look, neither of us sure who we're about to fight.

"Everyone? This is Bragg and Rewd. I'm very sorry, but I was bored and lonely. I summoned a succubus for my date last night, and I ended up with two of them. They were supposed to drain my life force, but it didn't happen! I don't want to send them back to hell for all eternity, and I need your help." She says it all in one breath, her shoulders releasing tension. "Mom, Dad, I'm really sorry I messed with black magic, but on the plus side? They took excellent care of me."

Esther backs up this story. The witches all huddle, and we wait with Portia, still clutching the grimoire.

Maple and Hollis stand to the side, discussing things under their breath. I overhear comments about Portia being a grown witch who can make her own decisions. A discussion about the complexities of grown children living at home and house rules.

Finally, the huddle breaks up and Birdie clears her throat.

"The fact is, all of us witches have dabbled with succubi from time to time. It's sort of an open secret," she says.

Maple and Hollis look horrified, and Birdie raises her hand in a calming gesture. "I know it comes as a shock, but you two weren't raised in the practice. You are young and relatively new to the family. It was only a matter of time. Honestly, it's an unspoken rite of passage."

Birdie turns to us and looks us up and down. "Now, what to do with you two, and what to do about the consequences of you staying in our dimension. That's another matter."

Portia, meanwhile, is perched at her spellwork table, thumbing through the grimoire.

"I think all we need to do is cast a protection spell to fill the void," she says.

"Baby, do you realize how much magic that will take?" Maple asks.

Birdie clucks, as if offended. "That's why we're here. All we can do is try."

Esther looks us over and pipes up. "That is, if you two actually intend to live here peacefully, and take care of our Portia." Her knife spins in the air threateningly.

"Not only will we do all of that, but we'll help you fight whatever evil hell tries to unleash because of our leaving."

"If you do fight on our side," Birdie says, "We'll make sure the community doesn't cast you out. But you have a long road ahead to prove yourselves."

A standoff follows as we all study each other, and each side is unsure if the other one is telling the truth.

Portia shivers as the wind sweeps in through the open window. Rewd and I go to either side of her and share our warmth with her fragile human body.

"We don't have much time," Portia says.

The assembly of witches gather at the window and raise their magical weapons — wands, staffs, or simply their hands. Hollis and Maple join them, clearly still feeling conflicted. And what parents wouldn't, having been awakened by this situation at 6 a.m., the morning after Halloween. Honestly, they both still reek of bonfire and mind-altering magic.

Portia reads a spell in Latin from Magda's grimoire. The room crackles with magic as the witches repeat it. The air buzzes. The wind rushes.

"Do you think she can do it?" Rewd asks.

I nod.

After centuries in prison, there's only one job I can handle, and that's taking care of my Portia, and my best friend.

Rewd's intense, craggy face softens when he looks at me. We clasp hands.

"Are you, a war demon, going to be content with this life, in this dimension?"

Rewd's gaze is intense. "Just us three. For the rest of our lives. In a too-small attic with a tiny, insatiable witch? I'll take my chances," he says.

And that's all my friend needs to say.

I squeeze his hand as Portia looks at us, mid-chant, and smiles.

We're all ready to fight for what we love.