Page 11 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

The pleasure had her reeling. She trembled, barely able to breathe. With every pulse, she thrust herself against the demon buried inside her. The sounds he made were so low they were inhuman. When the stranglehold on her throat eased, she gasped for air and opened her eyes to find a white mist floating up from her body, rising in immense waves that matched each tremor in her loins and each passionate cry torn from her throat. Her lover absorbed the mist like rain hitting thirsty soil. He rolled his hips, drawing out the ecstasy rippling through her, and all at once, it hit her.

She had done something terrible. She had lain with a demon. Willingly. She hadn’t chosen someone she loved, or even liked, for her first experience. She had pursued pleasure only, and not even with a human.

Why hadn’t she been stronger? Why had she let lust cloud her mind and make her forget her urgent task at home? Why him and why now? Had he cast magic on her to make her forget, to make her willing? Or had an incredibly stressful day pushed her to seize something for herself, no matter how wrong it was and in so many ways?

She dared not even think which one it’d been. She would break. Already she’d gone empty and expressionless. The heat was still there, but it was fading. The demon raggedly sighed and pulled free of her. Sword in hand, he stood to adjust his clothing, and she gingerly sat up, bringing her legs together.

Her belt was still partly intact, but she had to hold her dress shut as she stood and looked around for her basket. Spotting it, she took a few steps to retrieve it, and froze when something wet ran down her thigh. Divine One help her, how had she forgotten he’d likely spend himself inside her? Frightened and mortified, she snatched up her basket and turned to the path, desperate to leave his presence.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, voice stony. The charming lover was gone.

She stopped and turned, eyes downcast. “Home.”

“I don’t think so. I’m keeping you.” His footsteps approached.

She hastily backed away. “You said I could go home after you fed. I hold you to that promise.” She hugged her basket to her chest. “W-What happened should never—will never happen again.”

He didn’t answer at first, so she dared to lift her gaze and found him staring at her with naked longing. Her answering desire sent her to the deepest depths of guilt to which she had yet sunk. Would the Divine One ever forgive her for this transgression?

“The Divine One knew what he was doing when he made you,” he snapped. “He put you here to torment me.”

The demon was angry with himself, and at the god who despised him so much. In truth, he had grown to revile intercourse, but his continued existence demanded sexual energy, and he wasn’t about to let his distaste be his killer. Almost a full moon had passed since he’d last eaten a woman’s lust, and finding one lately was proving difficult. If he ventured too close to a village to slake his hunger, he risked rousing a large-scale demon hunt, which he did not need when all he had wanted was to visit his old estate on his way to Stillwood.

He had been close to death yet again and was in search of a new village from which he could tempt a female for her favors before the month’s end. He hadn’t had any luck, though. The sun had set and his horse had needed water, so he had stopped by an obliging creek. Then a young slip of a girl had appeared so suddenly he hadn’t been sure at first if she was even human. He’d slowly revealed himself, and her instant flight had confirmed she was as human as they came.

Catching her had been easy. She’d stuck to the winding path, so he’d cut through the woods to intercept her. And she was so young. Not much older than twenty, he was sure. Her heart-shaped face held large, dark eyes, a pert nose, and full lips meant for all things carnal. Her wavy hair, misused and tangled, needed only gentle soap and gentle hands. She was a tad skinny, but her obvious poverty was likely to blame, and he would have no problem getting her the meals she needed.

Women her age, though not at their sexual peak, had the stamina he looked for when selecting women to steal, and a single mating with her had completely replenished him, confirming she did indeed have black hair—the moonlight wasn’t tricking him. With the last woman, whose hair had been a light brown, he’d had to take her three times to feel full again.

He was angry at how strongly he still desired this young crow, even though he no longer needed her energy. He wanted to lie between her thighs once more, feel her rise beneath him to meet his thrusts, and hear those high, shy moans that had brought him so quickly to climax.

He normally had no inclination toward sex, yet the thought of slipping into the role she’d fantasized for him was greatly appealing. Out of impulse, he had even cast a binding spell upon her. She would have been the perfect choice to sustain him for years, but he had made a promise he hadn’t intended to keep, and the binding enforced that promise. He cursed violently, taking a step back.

“I shall ensure you reach your village, but I would ask you something before you go.” She simply stared at him, saying nothing. His jaw stiffened. “Tell me your name.”

She seemed surprised at the question and backed up another step. “Shumei.”

“I am called—”

“No, don’t,” she vehemently whispered. He balled up his hands. “I can’t know that. I can’t ever see you again.”

With that, she turned and ran, leaving him there. He swore under his breath.

Shumei ran as if the Damned One himself were on her heels. Tears ran down her cheeks as she thought about the crime she had committed. Her first sexual experience had been with a creature of Oblivion. Worse, she had enjoyed it immensely. Worst of all, she was certain she’d not be able to put the encounter out of her mind. She’d remember it often, and with no small amount of guilty satisfaction.

The villagers had been right about her.

Chapter Three

Shumei crested the top of a hill, hoping to see a sign of where she was, but the moon was hiding, and she could see only a few trees in front of her. She waited with a petulant frown, mad at the moonlight for playing tricks on her.

Mama had been mean tonight, saying she couldn’t go to the festival tomorrow, so she had run away and she was never going back. She would live off nuts and berries. She’d grow her own crops and kill deer, just like Mama and Papa.

She could only think of one place to go, but finding the medicine field was a lot harder than she’d thought. The sun had set an hour ago, so she couldn’t really see anything. The moon was playing peek-a-boo with her, hiding behind big clouds and only coming out long enough for her to see she was still lost.

She heard the snap of a twig and gasped in surprise. Looking around, she searched the underbrush near her to see if it’d been a rabbit, but it was too dark to see anything but shapes. Horrible prickles skittered down her back. Something was wrong.

More noises. Snapping twigs, crunching leaves, and groaning trees when there was no wind. Mama had said not to come here at night, and now she wished she hadn’t. Fisting her hands in the skirt of her new blue dress, she fought the urge to curl into a ball.