Page 78 of Devils Don’t Deal

“Why did your house go to war with my mother’s?”

“Because we could.”

“Right, but you could also not.”

“But someone has to choose the policy, the future, the profits, and that was going to be me.”

“And yet here you are having a picnic with some fairy-goblin accident instead of sitting on a throne somewhere choosing policy, the future, and profits. What went wrong?”

He gave me a sharp smile. “I’ve been hunting you down for twenty-five years. For me, this is exactly where I want to be.”

I nodded and pulled out my cake box. I needed chocolate with a molten caramel center. And to think I’d been eating cake with the devil so recently. I looked over at the body floating there. So weird. And today was overcast so the whole place had a depressed and desolate vibe.

I ate it out of the box with a fork, so not entirely uncivilized, but not entirely civilized either. The cake made me feel happier, slightly more confident.

“What are you eating? Something you baked?”

I nodded without looking up at him.

He caught my chin in his fingers and raised my face, forcing me to stare into his creepy seal-like eyes. “Are you going to eat without offering me any?”

I licked my lips and swallowed. “You wouldn’t like it. It’s just chocolate with a bit of brandy.”

“What feelings did you bake into it?”

“Happiness and confidence as well as a bit of hope. What would you do with any of that?”

He tilted his head as he studied me, hand still gripping my chin. “You need happiness or confidence?”

“Yes. Particularly hope.”

His smile twisted. “Give me a bite.”

I stared at him. “You want to eat my cake? But I might’ve poisoned it.”

His smile was more amused. “But then how could you eat it? You’re very delicate.”

I hesitated then cut a piece and held it out to him. Was he going to eat off my fork? Then I’d never be able to use it again. That would be way too weird.

He smiled like he could read my thoughts then his lips closed on the tines, and the cake was inside him.

He froze then, instead of falling over asleep, grabbed my throat, the one that didn’t have a collar anymore. His eyes were terrifying as he held me close enough to break. He smiled and held me so it could’ve looked affectionate from a distance. I struggled against him, but he was an elevator closing on me, squishing me dead.

“Let go of me,” I panted, shoving against his iron chest.

Nothing. And I was so weak from the heaviness of the devil’s heart. Maybe he wouldn’t be better off with it inside his chest.

He sang this hissing song that sank into my brain and turned it into mush. Mushrooms. Something that made all my limbs deliciously limp and everything happy. I gazed up at the king, not struggling anymore. He was so handsome. And his scar was so delicious.

I ran a finger up his face. “I love your scar,” I murmured, sighing happily in his arms.

He jerked away from me, dumping me on the blanket while he looked more disgusted than usual.

“Don’t tempt me to kill you too quickly,” he ordered, a command that confused my jellified brain.

“Okay. I’ll tempt you to kill me too slowly.” I smiled and reached out for him. “Kiss me to death. Slowly. I promise I won’t lick you like a weirdo.” I wiggled my brows at him while he looked alarmed.

“Where’s your self-respect?” he demanded.