Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

W hen I'm done screaming, I breathe through the panic. I'm such an idiot. I should have known better than to try the trapping spell, but I was desperate. I spiralled into terror when I got back because this thing between the demon and me is getting stronger. He's getting harder to resist, and I was worried about what would happen when I finally gave in.

I realized tonight that I would, hence the trapping spell while he was gone. I thought if I could trap him, it would give me time to figure out how to escape him and undo whatever causes him to be tethered to me. I never thought it would go so wrong, and as I eye the man casually standing in the trapping spell meant for the demon sighing next to me, I can't help but gulp.

A god.

I summoned a god, and not just any god, but a very attractive god. My eyes rove over him like I'm seeing the sun for the first time. Where I am darkness, he is light. Golden spun hair hangs down past his shoulders, some of it braided back to reveal shapely ears. His face should look stern or even feminine, but he has a square jawline devoid of any hair or stubble, a straight nose, and high cheekbones that, quite frankly, I'm jealous of. His dark eyebrows are furrowed over his vivid eyes, which are as bright as the sun before they seem to shift to an even brighter icy grey. He only wears loose trousers that look like they belong in a different century, so his chest and arms are completely bare and stacked with muscle. There isn't an ounce of fat on him, and I count the number of indents on his abs. He could be a cover model for those dirty books Agatha writes in her spare time.

Or an angel.

The guy looks like he should have angel wings—wait, is this where all the references for angels came from? This guy? It wouldn't surprise me. He's all golden sunlight and godliness.

He watches me patiently, his expression showing he's slightly worried. I almost giggle out loud at that. I mean, I would be worried as well if some crazy witch with a demon sidekick summoned and then trapped me.

Oh gods, what has my life come to?

Groaning, I cover my face as the demon chuckles. "Can't say I expected our night to end like this, but you always keep me on my toes, little witch." For a demon facing down a god, he doesn't seem so worried.

"I'm sorry, okay?" I throw my hands in the air and look at the god. "Erm, to you too, nice god. Don't smite me. I didn't mean to summon you."

"I do not smite people." His head tilts, a flirty smile teasing on his plump lips. "Not ones as pretty as you anyway."

"Nope. My witch. Back off, god," the demon sneers.

Light and darkness.

I would look good trapped between them— shit, stop right there! They are both watching me, and I feel my cheeks heat.

My demon snickers. "What were you thinking about, little witch?"

"Nothing," I blurt, stumbling over the word.

He appears behind me, his smoky voice filling my ear. "Pretty liar."

I jerk away, pointing in his face. "Do not make me build you a trapping spell too," I warn .

"Maybe I'd like to be tied up by you," he flirts.

I glare at him, he smiles at me, and we only stop when the god clears his throat. We both whirl around to see the god with his eyebrow raised.

"Right." I turn back to him. "I'll just, erm, let you go, but here's the thing—I don't actually know how. I was never good with trapping spells," I admit. "I can ask one of the others, but then they will know I summoned and trapped a god, and I'm already an outcast, and being stalked by a demon doesn't help. Maybe there's a book I can use?" He just watches me babble, his eyebrows getting higher and higher with each confession and a smile growing on his lips. "A book, yes, a book. I'll have to break in, though, because Agatha is still mad about the troll thing." My voice is high as I run out of air.

"Breathe, little witch," my demon orders with a smile.

I take a deep breath and nod, bowing all the way over. "I'm sorry for summoning and trapping you. I will go steal the book and figure out how to free you, and then you cannot smite me, and everything can go back to normal. Be right back." I almost sprint away—well, I walk fast because the only way I would be running is if something were chasing me. I've never understood people who run for fun.

My demon's mocking laughter follows after me.

Asshole, this is all his fault.

DEMON

I watch Freya go with a shake of my head. Was she really going to trap me? She's tried to get rid of me over the years in a lot of different ways, but I thought we were past that. I thought she understood I'm here to stay.

Apparently not. My feelings might even be hurt if I had any.

"A demon hanging around a witch," Phrixius murmurs. Yes, I know who he is. There aren't that many gods left, nor any with such golden hair and eyes. This is the god of magic, and my little witch called him. He has the power to ruin this, so I need to be careful. I need to give him enough answers for him to lose interest. Gods are like demons that way. They don't care after they get bored.

They want excitement after so many years of living.

"She has good snacks." I perch on top of her table. "We both know you could break that binding spell and leave, so why don't you?"

"Maybe I'm curious why she called me, or maybe I'm curious about why a demon is so determined to stay at my witch's side."

"Not yours," I hiss before I can stop myself.

Phrixius's eyebrow simply rises as he gracefully sinks to his knees. "Very well. So tell me the truth, demon. Give me a reason to leave, and I will allow you to stay at the side of one of mine. She is magic, after all."

"Dark magic," I point out, since he already knows.

"Dark or not, she is mine," he counters. "So tell me why I shouldn't intervene."

I stare at the god, realising he isn't going to leave, not just like that.

"If you help rid her of me, she will die," I admit honestly, something that's not easy for a demon. We thrive on lies and deception, but I see no other way out. I am uncharacteristically serious as I move to the edge of the binding spell meant for me. "You would be killing her, and that is the truth."

"Sadly for her, I think it is," he murmurs as he watches me.

My smirk grows as I step back. "Good, then off with you. I have some very ungodly things to say to the little witch, and our fights tend to get . . . physical." I wiggle my eyebrows, but he simply watches me.

"Fine, but I think I'll stay a while and see how this plays out. Plus, it's been a long time since I was in this world. It's about time I checked on my people."

"Now listen here—" We both stop at the sound of a scream. It's an internal one, but one I'd know anywhere.

Sighing, I point at him. "She is trapped in the potions room again. Be gone when I get back." I evaporate to find my little, troublesome witch before she ends up destroying her own village by mistake.

My job truly is a hard one .

"Freya, hells," I snap as I appear. "What are you doing up there?"

She's hanging from the top of a bookshelf in Agatha's house, one hand on a book, the other holding her up as ladders clatter to the floor where she can't reach them.

"Oh, you know, just felt like hanging for a spell," she hisses. "Help me."

"No. Say sorry for trying to make me leave," I demand.

"Never."

"Fine." I hop up on a bookshelf next to her, swinging my legs as I wait. I can see her fingers and arm straining to hold her up. She was never very good at physical exercise, and she says the only time you should run is if someone is chasing you—I put that to the test more than once and wound up being turned into a lizard for three days.

My little witch can be terrifying when she needs to be.

"It's dusty up here. You'd think Agatha would use a spell to clean," I comment idly as I watch her face turn red from exertion, her legs kicking at the shelves loud enough that I'm surprised the old hag hasn't come down to find out what's going on.

"I'll make a note to tell her." She puffs, her cheeks blowing wide with air as she tries to drag herself up but falls with a groan. "I've got this. I'm totally fine."

"You don't seem to be. Say you're sorry and I'll help," I tell her as I lean in, my forked tongue flicking across her ear. "Or better yet, let's make a deal, little witch."

"Never. You'll want terrible things from me." One finger slips from the top, but my stubborn Freya doesn't ask.

"The only thing I want from you, little witch, is the thing you'll eventually give me, and we both know it, but keep fighting because it will only make your surrender that much sweeter," I say as I lean back.

Her hand finally gives and she plummets, heading right for the floor far below. My girl might be a witch, but she's still breakable.

I evaporate then reappear midair, catching her as I stop us so we simply touch the floor, the book clutched to her chest. "Stubborn little witch," I murmur as I check her over for injuries .

"Pesky, annoying demon," she responds, but her lips tilt in a smile—one I can't help but return.

No, it's not so bad at all.