2. Leith

2

LEITH

L eith Mamon scrubbed a hand across his jaw, stubble rasping over his palm, and tried to ignore the summons. It was an incessant, annoying tug at the core of his body, distracting him from his work and dragging him out into the night towards some damnable crossroads. Maybe he could resist it long enough for the petitioner to get bored and walk away, thus escaping any repercussions of a liminal-space contract.

But the summons was strong and rapidly evolving from annoying to painful. Cursing under his breath, he tossed a pen on the pile of legal briefs he was reviewing and pushed back from his desk, the piles of papers and discarded coffee cups wobbling precariously. "This better be worth it," he growled, raking his hands through his hair and tugging on his horns for good measure. "I've got a deposition tomorrow and don't have time for this bullshit."

The deal he made with the Demon Queen was that, as long as he remained in the human realm, he was responsible for this region. And that included annoyances such as crossroads management. Luckily for him, there was very little oversight from the demon realm, and he usually got away with avoiding the whole territory-claiming, deal-making department.

Besides, he was busy playing the rather enjoyable role of a stereotypically ruthless lawyer. He wasn't out there looking to earn a name for himself by collecting the souls of up-and-coming musicians in exchange for success or other such nonsense, unlike some of his predecessors.

"Relax. I'm coming," he growled when the summons squeezed tight and pulled. With a wave of his hand, he opened a portal and stepped into the screaming black void.

As he exited onto the gravel road, he heard a woman's voice say, "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

Leith shook his head at the petitioner's too-late realization of her folly. How could she possibly think summoning a demon to the crossroads was a good idea, especially this time of year when the Veil between realms was so thin?

"You can say that again," he growled, irritated she called him away from work he actually enjoyed doing.

Then he got his first look at her, and the dusty, withered thing he called a heart restarted with a jolting thump. How utterly unexpected.

He cocked his head, studying the little human in front of him. She was certainly more delicious than the usual petitioners. The intoxicating scent of her made his mouth water. He inhaled, tasting her intentions. Her disdain and hostility had a spicy kick, but there was no hate or greed flavoring her purpose. She'd come to his crossroads out of love and concern for another. Even more unexpected.

His heart beat faster, a soft glow of heat expanding in his chest as a missing puzzle piece clicked into place in his soul. Mate , it whispered. He glowered, willing it to hush so he could focus and do his job.

She frowned back and ran her tongue over her ruby red lips. "You aren't who I was expecting."

Folding his arms over his chest, he grunted in affirmation. Of course not. No doubt, she'd hoped for one of Hecate's minions or Epona, the horse goddess, to appear when she called.

Too bad. The crossroads in this region were his domain. No one else would dare interfere. "You summoned me. Let's make a deal."

At those words, the irritation he'd felt at being called away from his work disappeared, and he mentally rubbed his hands together in anticipation. It had been far too long since he'd bothered to make a crossroads deal. Usually, he just scared them off. Always funny to watch a petitioner run away like their hair was on fire.

But he was curious to find out what this adorable little human wanted, and what she was willing to offer in return. That blasted heart of his pulsed at the idea of spending more time with her and getting to know this woman his soul recognized as his mate.

His brows drew together, his glower deepening. Where had that idea come from? He didn't have the time or inclination to deal with a life mate right now. He was trying to avoid attachments and responsibilities, not add to them.

"No, I summoned a spirit," she said, her hands clenched by her sides.

Ah. So she expected to find a helpful spirit rather than a demon. She probably thought all those stories about deals with the devil were made up. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course she did. She was too dewy-eyed for her own good. The urge to scoop her up in his arms and rescue her from her own uninformed decisions warred with his desire to turn her over his knee and spank that round ass of hers for putting herself in danger.

"Well, you got me." He grinned, his mind fixating on the idea of her face-down in his lap. "Lucky you."

His tone was light, but inside, he bristled with outrage. She'd put herself in danger. Standing at a crossroads at midnight and calling out for help was asking for trouble. And she'd flung the portal open wide with her unfocused plea. Anyone could have stepped across that threshold before him. How was she this unaware of the dangers that lurked here, waiting for a tasty snack like her to make an appearance? She had magic; she had to know the risks.

Enough of this. Obviously, she needed rescuing from her poor decisions. Time to make a deal.

"Rowan Vera Burnay," he said, the shadows pooling at his feet. "You have come to these crossroads seeking aid and summoned me to your side. State your need."

She put her hands on her hips. "No, thanks. I'm not making a deal with you." She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're not getting my soul, demon."

Oh, she was delightful. He could just eat her up. He'd make it a priority, in fact, once they struck their deal. With those luscious curves and porcelain skin that glowed in the moonlight, she was hard to resist. Her long, red hair was tied up in a loose ponytail that begged to be wrapped around his fist as he pulled her close to taste those plump red lips. A few curling tendrils escaped the band and framed her heart-shaped face. The form-fitting green vee-neck she wore accented her bountiful breasts, and those dark jeans hugged her like a lover. He wanted to peel them off and stroke every inch of her smooth skin.

Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he cocked his head, studying her. "What did you think would happen when you came here and did your ritual?" He dug a toe into the gravel, unearthing the small tin of graveyard dirt she'd buried at the center of the crossroads. "Did you expect to get what you wanted and leave with no cost, no repercussions?"

A muscle jumped in her cheek as she ground her teeth together. "I expected you to be a spirit that I could ask a question of, get an answer, and pay in coin before walking away."

"A question?" Intriguing. "Tell me."

She recoiled, shaking her head. "No."

"What if I ask nicely?" he said, giving her the best wide-eyed, innocent expression he could muster. "Pretty please? With sugar on top?"

A dimple flashed in her cheek before disappearing just as quickly, but she didn't immediately respond. A cool autumn wind danced over the road, kicking up colorful fallen leaves, a reminder winter was on its way. A chorus of crickets and frogs sang as an owl glided silently overhead.

Finally, she said, "If I ask you my question, does that mean we're making a deal?"

"Not necessarily." Crossroads deals came in all shapes and sizes. He had enough experience with both petitioner deals and legal contracts that he could twist and mold them to suit his purposes. Right now, his goal was to establish a connection, something he could use to keep tabs on her while he got to the root of her problem and decided how to proceed with the whole mate issue. Then maybe they'd renegotiate.

"Because I'm not willing to sign my soul over to you or anything like that."

"Sensible," he said, rocking back on his heels. He pursed his lips, thinking. "For this encounter only, you may treat this interaction as if I were the lesser spirit you'd hoped to summon."

She cocked her head. "Really?" A double line formed between her brows. "That sounds too good to be true, considering the nature of demons."

"You don't know much about demons, then," he said, irritation shading his tone. Not all of them were greedy, terrible monsters. His people were just as diverse as hers.

"I can't leave until I do this, can I?"

"No. A call was made and answered. Both of us are trapped in this liminal space until the ritual is complete."

Her palms rasping against her jean-clad thighs, she blew out a hard breath. "Fine. I'm not thrilled about this, but I guess I don't really have a choice here, do I?"

"Not unless you want me glued to your side until I'm properly dismissed."

"Fine. You're my spirit stand-in. I'm going to ask you a question, you're going to give me an answer, and I'm going to toss you a coin in payment. Got it?"

He nodded, refraining from rubbing his hands together in glee. Little did she know he had a plan.

She pursed her lips, took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders. "Spirit," she said, "My grandmother, she needs help." Haltingly, she spun a tale of a shady private equity firm run by an even shadier individual trying to buy up the town for cheap using threats and intimidation tactics. Her grandmother was the latest target. Swallowing hard, she asked, "How can I best help my grandmother? I'm afraid of what will happen to her if she loses her home and her store."

Oh, this was too easy. He tried not to be smug when he said, "You need to hire a lawyer."

Her jaw dropped. "What? That's your answer?"

He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. With a shrug, he said, "Yep."

Flags of bright red colored her cheeks as she spluttered with outrage, her fists clenched at her sides.

God, she was gorgeous. His withered heart beat faster, blood flowing straight to his cock at the flush of her cheeks against her pale skin.

"Finish it," he reminded her after she'd had time to curse him and his entire family line. He supposed he should be thankful there was no power behind those creative curses. He'd rather not have his necessary morning cup of coffee always be tepid or for his bed to always be short-sheeted, thank you very much.

Muttering obscenities under her breath, she dug into her front jeans pocket and pulled out her offering coins. She jangled them once in her palm, the coins chiming against one another, before tossing them at him. As they bounced off his chest and fell to the ground, she said, "With this, it is paid." With one last glare, she spun on the balls of her feet and stalked off, never looking back.

"It is indeed," he murmured, bending to gather the coins. He traced George Washington's face on the quarter before closing his fist around it. "Thank you for the retainer, Ms. Burnay. With this coin, you've hired yourself a lawyer." He felt more alive than he had in years and all because of the lovely Rowan. He couldn't wait to see her again, those luscious lips parting in surprise when she learned what she'd done. "Lucky me."