Chapter 4

Casimir

Out of all the ways I had envisioned spending my Friday afternoon, being summoned to the human realm was not at the top of my list. Hell, it wasn't even on my list. There I was, in my hot tub, minding my own business, when the unmistakable pull of a summon started tingling over my skin.

Now, demons get a bad rap, but it's not our fault, okay?

Witches have used us since the dawn of time, forcing us to carry out their nefarious schemes that, sure, might be fun sometimes. But we don't have a choice!

Sue us for making the best of the situation.

As the years passed, witch bloodlines have slowly been bred out of existence, which means fewer and fewer demons are being summoned. These days, the majority of us are left to our own devices.

Anyone who says Hell is an awful place to live has obviously never visited. It's like going to New Orleans, except the accents are better and the canals are filled with hellfyre instead of ocean water. And, y'know, red clouds and lightning rather than warm afternoon breezes in the sunshine. Then there's the stifling hundred-and-thirty-degree summers… oh, and we can't forget the occasional hex tornado.

I'm getting off track here.

Listen, humans obviously have the superior atmosphere, and none of us are ever complaining about the opportunity to visit above ground. But we make the best of it. We have a booming economy in Hell, and the Lucifer that's currently in office is a decent guy. He even gave tax cuts to those that get summoned and passed a law that requires a demon's job to remain available once they've been released from their witch's contract.

Solid dude for the working man.

Now, back to my original point—summoning. Doesn't happen much these days, and until today, I've never experienced it. Witchcraft is falling to the wayside as magic is bred out of humans, but a few large, important families have worked hard to preserve their magical heritage.

Demons are taught who they are and what they're likely to have us do from a young age. We study them and their history so we can be prepared if it happens. Most of the time, it's one of them that calls on us to do their bidding, but occasionally you get a surprise.

I stare at the mousy red-haired man in front of me, trembling and stammering, pale enough that I'm convinced he might pass out if I were to say "Boo." Eyes the size of saucers are wide and scared but hold steady on mine.

He's a surprise.

Finding I've been summoned by a warlock is even more surprising, because witch bloodlines almost always pass to female descendants. Historically, warlocks are bloodthirsty, vicious creatures, but this one is…

Well, he's terrified.

Honestly, the evil laugh as I passed through the portal was probably overkill, but this is my first time. The popping of my summoning cherry, if you will. I wanted to make it memorable, you know?

Something to tell stories about later.

Slap into a scrapbook.

"Who… who are you? What are you?" he stammers, his voice soft and confused, and for a second, my face wrinkles up like I'm looking at a baby hellcat. He's so… stinking… cute !

When I remember I'm supposed to be taking this seriously, I force my expression back into a smirk. We demons have a reputation to uphold, after all. "I'm the one who shall ask questions right now." Oh, dear Satan, it is hard to keep a straight face.

I never was good at improv.

His green eyes get even wider, and I come close to losing my composure again because I just want to fucking squeeze him. I bet he's so soft. "Wha… what questions?" he asks, and this time I can't help my smile.

"Why have you summoned me, human?"

"Summoned you?" he squeaks, his fingers digging into the spellbook that he hugs against his chest. "I didn't summon you!"

My grin has just a touch of sarcasm as I glance at the drawing under my feet that holds me in place. "No?"

"No!"

"Alright… humor me. Explain why there is a summoning circle on the floor."

"That's not a… a… summoning circle! That's a rune."

Oh, wow, okay, he's like… new, new. "Same thing."

"No, it… isn't." His voice is as weak as his argument as my grin spreads even wider. Suddenly, his eyes narrow and his pointer finger jabs into my chest. "Don't laugh at me!"

My hands fly up in surrender, still grinning as his cheeks flush in anger. "No harm meant, Red."

"Rory," he mutters. When I quirk my brow, he explains, "My name is Rory, not Red."

"Right, okay… so, Rory. Care to explain why I'm here?"

His fingers pull into a fist at his side as he grows even more flustered. He steals a quick glance at my naked body, chirping a mouse-like squeak as his eyes snap back up to meet mine. My smile is hurting my cheeks at this point, because this is delightful . "I didn't mean to… summon you. This wasn't my intention."

"What was your intention, if not to call me to this realm?"

A deeper shade of petal pink paints his cheeks as he looks away. "Doesn't matter… this wasn't it, so you can go." He nods, like he's made some sort of grand decision. "Yes, that's it. You may go now." His hand waves through the air, dismissing me with the flick of his wrist.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm afraid it's not that simple."

His eyes fly back to mine, narrowed and suspicious. Panicked, but trying to hide it. "What do you mean ‘isn't that simple'?"

"Well," I say, dragging the word out as I reach for him and twist one of his pretty red curls around my finger. A peculiar mix of a squawk and a honk leaves him as he lurches backward, and my hand hits the barrier of the summoning circle. "You are the witch… er, warlock who summoned me. It's your spell that brought me here, and only your spell can return me home."

He sputters, clearly in the dark about all of this. "But I don't know how to send you back!"

"Can you at least let me out of this circle? No spell needed for that; you just have to speak permission for me to leave."

"Absolutely not!" he shouts, his wide eyes finding mine again. "You might… do… things !"

Another grin slides across my face. "What sort of things might I do?" I purr, and he flushes deeper.

"Demon things!" he exclaims, gesturing up my body.

I give him a contemplative hum. "I'm going to need specifics here. What exactly do you know about demons?"

His shoulders droop as his eyes fall to the floor, and a wave of sympathy hits me as he mumbles, "Nothing. I don't know anything about demons... about any of this."

"Then why'd you do it?" I ask, gentle.

He sniffles, and I'm glad he's looking down because my face would betray me in a heartbeat. The way my lip pokes out at his sadness definitely contradicts the tough guy persona I'm trying to maintain. "I'm so tired of things not going my way," he whispers, before averting his eyes like he's embarrassed.

"Does someone need a hug?" He freezes, unnaturally still for a squirmy human. "Oh, come on, Rory. I don't bite… unless you want me to." He lets out a strangled cough at my cheeky wink, and I grin again. There's a touch against my ankle, and I glance down to find a cat rubbing against me.

A CAT!

"Aww, and who are you?" I coo, crouching and running my fingers through the soft black fur. Completely forgetting myself, my voice gets higher pitched as I squeal. "Oh, my GOD, I have never gotten to pet a cat before! Is it always so… so… fluffy?"

Rory turns and faces me with a frown, and I'm smiling like a maniac as I look up at him. His brows furrow before he glances down, jerking his head to the side with another of those adorable squeaks, and I follow his gaze.

Oh, right. My lack of clothes means my cock hangs between my thighs, and I breathe out a soft laugh at his bashfulness. "Could you put some clothes on?" he hisses, and my laugh turns indignant.

"You were the one that summoned me!" I argue, standing again and picking the cat up with me, not willing to stop petting it. Crossing my arms, I neither confirm nor deny that I push my hips out on purpose. Or that I give a little wiggle, hoping to draw his eye back. "I was enjoying a lazy afternoon in my hot tub, so it's not my fault I'm here in the nude!"

Now, could I summon clothing? Absolutely. Many of my demon powers work fine in the human realm, as long as they mean no harm to my master. But he doesn't need to learn that little piece of information yet.

Not while I'm having fun.

"Hot tub?" he cries, incredulously. "I'm over here having a goddamned existential breakdown, and you're just skinny dipping in your fucking jets?"

My eyes widen at his outburst, and I dig my fingers deeper into the cat's fur. This shit is calming. "Want to talk about it?"

For a few seconds, he breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling until his eyes slowly shift back towards me. "No, I don't want to talk about it! Talking about it already made me cuss!" That's… different. I cock my head at the statement, but he stomps his foot and distracts me again. "I want my cat."

"Come get it," I tease, hugging the rumbling creature to my chest.

"Give me my cat!" he screams, and the power zings through my body, hit with the compulsion to do as he commands. I fight it for just a split-second longer.

"Want me to bring it to you?"

Frustration gets the better of him and he scoffs, shaking his head as he takes the bait. "Yes, just… just bring her to me!"

The moment the words are out of his mouth, I feel the binds of the summoning circle release me, and I take a tentative step forward. Realization dawns on his face as soon as he sees me move, and then it's replaced with terror.

I won't lie—that shit stings a little.

Generally speaking, I'm a nice guy. Demons have feelings too, you know, and mine are now bruised.

I give the cat another head scratch before stepping directly in front of him. Tempted as I am to keep the purring creature, it's the first direct command he's given me, so I don't fight the compulsion any longer.

I hand the cat over and he struggles to hold it along with the spell book, hugging both to his chest. For a long second, we just stare at each other, until a splitting grin tears across my face. "Freedom!" I bellow, turning and bolting down the stairs towards the daylight.