6. Calix

6

CALIX

I observe Geneva as she scrubs the wooden floors, her movements mechanical and lifeless. The other women scurry about like frightened little creatures, their eyes downcast. It's pathetic, really. But Geneva... there's still a spark in her. I can see it and I can feel it, even as she tries to hide it.

I wait, patient as only an immortal can be, until she's alone in a dimly lit hallway. The other servants have scattered, leaving her to tackle the endless expanse of polished wood. Alone, working hard on her knees. Perfect.

Without a second thought, I materialize behind her. The sound of her scrubbing echoes out into the empty hallway. "Having fun yet?"

Geneva yelps, nearly dropping her brush. She whirls around, eyes wide as she kneels before me. Her reaction is delicious, fear mingling in those deep green eyes. "You! You're... you're real," she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper.

I arch an eyebrow, amused by her disbelief. "Did you think you dreamed me up?" I ask, my voice a low purr. "I'm flattered, but I assure you, I'm quite real." I let my gaze roam over her, drinking in every detail of her trembling form.

She glances around nervously, her eyes darting to the shadows as if expecting someone to materialize from them. "I can't... we can't talk here," she hisses urgently. "If they catch me?—"

"Relax," I drawl, leaning against the wall with casual grace. I cross my arms, enjoying the way her eyes follow the movement. "I'll know if someone draws near. That's one of the perks of being a demon." I tap my temple with a smirk. "We have a few tricks up our sleeves."

Geneva's shoulders slump in relief, but wariness still clouds her eyes. "Why are you here? Have you come to... to check on me?"

I snort, unable to hide my amusement. "Check on you? Please. I'm not your nursemaid. I've got better things to do with my time." I take a step closer, my eyes never leaving hers. "I'm here because I'm curious. Tell me, how are you enjoying your new accommodations?"

Her face darkens, various emotions flickering across her features. "It's horrible," she spits out, her voice laced with venom. "This place is a gilded cage."

I can't help but chuckle at her naivety. "Oh, trust me, my dear human. This isn't the worst of it. Not by a long shot." I lean in, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I've heard rumors of humans being subjected to much worse under the dark elves. Torture, experimentation, things that would make your skin crawl. So consider yourself lucky. At least here, you've got a roof over your head and food in your belly."

Geneva's lips twitch, almost a smile. Then she remembers herself and scowls. "I haven't... I haven't done what you asked yet. The deal is still on, right? I… The souls?—"

I wave a hand dismissively. "All in good time. I'm a patient demon. For now, I just want to see how you're handling things."

She hesitates, then blurts out. "I don't know how I'm going to trap those souls."

"You'll figure it out. I've told you this already. There's no fun in receiving all the answers in one fell swoop. At least, that's what I think."

"You're not the one enslaved," she retorts, resuming her cleaning.

I watch Geneva's hands as she scrubs, her knuckles white from gripping the brush too tightly. There's a stubborn set to her jaw that I find oddly... compelling.

"You're quite determined, aren't you?" I muse, crossing my arms.

She pauses, glancing up at me. "I have to be."

"Hmm. And here I thought humans were all soft and pliable. You're full of surprises, Geneva."

Her eyes widen. "You know my name?"

I smirk. "I make it a point to know everything about those I make deals with. It's just good business."

Geneva sits back on her heels, abandoning her task. "Do you have a name? I... I never asked before."

"Calix," I reply, surprised by my own willingness to share. "And yes, before you ask, most demons have names."

"Calix," she repeats, testing it on her tongue. "It suits you."

I raise an eyebrow. "Oh? And how would you know what suits a demon?"

She shrugs, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "Just a feeling."

I find myself chuckling. "Feelings can be dangerous things, little human."

"So can demons, I'd imagine," she retorts.

"Indeed." I slide down the wall, sitting across from her. "What else do you want to know about demons? I can see the questions burning in those pretty green eyes of yours."

Geneva bites her lip, considering. "Are you... are all demons like you?"

"Like me?" I lean forward, grinning. "Devilishly handsome? Incredibly charming?"

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the faint blush on her cheeks. "I meant powerful. Able to appear and disappear at will."

"Ah, that." I wave a hand dismissively. "Some are. Some aren't. We have hierarchies, just like you humans do. I happen to be... rather high up in the pecking order."

"Is that why you can make deals? For souls?"

I nod, impressed by her perceptiveness. "Exactly. Not every demon has that privilege."

Geneva falls silent for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. Her eyes narrow as she focuses on her hands. Then she asks, "Do you like it? Being a demon?"

The question catches me off guard. I've existed for millennia, but no one's ever asked me that before. "I... It's all I've ever known," I answer honestly. "But I suppose there are worse things to be. Like you."

The look in her eyes gives me pause. I'm quite impressed by this human. No one has stared at me like that, not even other demons. What is it about this one? Why is she so determined to rip apart the customs that this world has always known?

Just as she's opening her mouth, perhaps to ask me more questions, footsteps start clicking against the floor. They grow louder and louder, catching Geneva's attention.

With her eyes off of me, I take the moment to disappear again, watching as Geneva flinches at the sight of one of the dark elf servants who orders around the human slaves in this manor.

"Geneva! What do you think you're doing, you stupid human?" she screeches, her eyes narrowing at the girl still kneeling on the floor.

Geneva scrambles to her feet, nearly losing her balance. "I-I was just finishing up here, ma'am."

The servant's nostrils flare, her eyes narrowing to dark slits. I can practically taste the venom in her voice as she spits out the words. "Finishing up? You've been at this hallway for over an hour! Are you trying to polish the wood right off the floor? Or are you just too stupid to understand simple instructions?"

I watch with interest as Geneva's spine stiffens, her chin lifting ever so slightly. Despite the tremor I can see in her hands, her voice remains remarkably steady. "No, ma'am. I just wanted to make sure it was done properly. I take pride in my work, even if it's just cleaning floors."

The girl's got guts, I'll give her that. It's almost a shame to see such spirit wasted on menial labor. Almost.

I lean against the wall, invisible to their eyes but thoroughly entertained. It's fascinating, watching Geneva try to navigate this precarious situation. The fire in her eyes hasn't dimmed, but she's learning to mask it. Clever girl.

The servant isn't buying it. "Don't get smart with me, you useless human. I know your type. Think you're too good for honest work, eh?"

Geneva's jaw clenches as she shakes her head. "That's not true. I?—"

"Silence!" The servant's hand whips through the air, stopping inches from Geneva's face. "One more word out of you, and I'll have you whipped until that pretty skin of yours is in ribbons. Understood?"

Geneva nods, her eyes blazing with barely contained fury. Oh, how I'd love to see her unleash that anger. But not yet. Not here.

The servant sniffs, adjusting her immaculate uniform. "Now, get your useless hide down to the kitchens. They need help preparing for tonight's feast, and I won't have you making us all look incompetent."

"Yes, ma'am," Geneva mutters, her head bowed.

As she turns to leave, the servant calls out, "And Geneva? If I catch you dawdling again, it won't just be a threat next time. Now move!"

Geneva lets out a small sigh. As she turns around, the disappointed expression on her face makes it apparent that she's looking for someone. Me.

I hold back a chuckle. The human wants to see me again. Who would have thought?

As much as I'd like to continue our conversation, I remain invisible. I watch as Geneva's shoulders slump as she grabs her cleaning tools and makes her way down the hallway. The disappointment lingers on her face as she turns the corner to leave, much to my pleasure.

The human is growing fond of me, I think. What an intriguing turn of events.