Page 152 of The Bonds of Indigo

“Ex…” he murmurs.

“Yeah, well, from the sound of it, that wasn’t established. You just up and left!”

“You know nothing of what happened⁠—”

“Oh, don’t give me that.”

“Stop. STOP!” I roar. “Enough! How the fuck do you two know each other?”

Chapter 39

A Week Before the Night of Emethye

How is it possible for a mortal to be this beautiful? Not even the Vayl could create… her. I’m certain of it.

She hasn’t seen me yet, but I keep myself cloaked in shadows on purpose. Even though I was the one who summoned the Witch here, I’m still wary of trusting her.

I hadn’t gone to her first. Not by a long shot. I sought help from Demons, even the Fallen, and none of them would hear me out. So for her to agree to this meeting… I know I’ll owe her something in return.

She turns slightly, and eyes like… sunfire, flash in my direction. A living blaze of gold, orange, and white. Her pearl white hair falls over her shoulders to the middle of her back, and the dark blue dress she wears hugs her pear-shaped frame. Bloody Beyond, I’ve gone without sustenance for so, so long that feeding on her would sate every ache in my bones.

Though, from her scent alone, I can tell addiction would follow.

Her lips part slowly, starting from the center, until her white teeth show. She senses me. I can feel the magic around her gathering, pulling upward toward her open palms.

“Did you summon me only to attack me, son of Belial?” Fuck the Gods—her voice is unreal. “Because I promise I am no weak woman.”

That pulls a smile from me, and I let the shadows fall away as I step out from behind a tree. I shove my hands into my pockets in a show of peace. She mirrors the gesture, but instead, cups her hands together against her stomach.

The closer I get, the more ethereal she becomes. Her top dips low enough that I can see the soft curve of her breasts, and between them, a tattoo I can’t quite make out. It’s strange, maybe, to notice something so small, but her collarbones are perfect. The gentle hollows at her shoulders beg for attention.

Bloody Beyond, I am a dried-out Demon.

“I’m here peacefully, Witch. I promise.” I offer her a smile.

Her brows pinch, suspicion lingering. “I see. It’s Lucifer, right?” Her gaze drifts from my toes upward, slow and assessing, before returning to my face. “You’re… sort of what I expected the son of Belial to look like.”

My smile turns wicked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She rolls her eyes, but a tiny smile betrays her. “As you please, Demon.”

She runs her tongue over her bottom lip before taking a steadying breath. “Why are you looking for a Yldarwright?”

“Straight to business? No pleasantries?”

Probably for the best. I shouldn’t be flirting. I need to return before my father grows even more irrational about my being here in the mortal realm. It was his directive that I find a way to gather the information he wants. It’s not my fault that path led me here. This is the last fucking place I want to be… It reminds me too much of Kayn.

“I wish I had the time,” she says, leaning to one side. “I’m sure you’re quite fun under other circumstances, but my kind aren’t sought out unless it’s to kill or be killed. Since Demons don’t die, it would be the former.”

I step closer, and her scent hits me—blackberries and ripened figs. Not sweet, but rich and fresh, like living nature woven into a single body. It reminds me of him, and of this place.

I want to hate it.

My body—and my Vigoro—say otherwise.

The need to forget why I summoned her here and bury my face against her skin is almost overwhelming.

“I’m not here to kill you.”