Page 25 of Devils Don’t Deal

I gave him a shocked look before I turned away. “No. Of course not. I don’t date anyone.”

“We have something in common. Whenever I try to date, inevitably there comes a time when they ask for a deal. I can’t give someone a good deal, a fair deal is as good as it gets, so they end up feeling betrayed.”

“Why would someone date you and ask for a deal?” I frowned at him, trying to think what a romantic deal would look like with him. “That you’d have a heart so you could love them back? That you’d give them immortality so you could live together forever?”

He blinked at me. “Immortality, yes, also beauty, wealth, the usual things people want. Revenge is also quite popular. No one makes a deal to live forever to be with me. That would be silly.”

“Oh. And people are never silly.” I glared at him.

He smiled back, an almost sweet smile. “You’re a romantic. I suppose being raised by your parents and constantly witnessing their absolutely ridiculous love would do that. You would ask for immortality to be with someone you loved.”

I sniffed and tried not to notice the cars honking at us, people leaning out of windows to yell and possibly cast curses. “No. Immortality doesn’t interest me any more than money. I just want to bake. I could probably bake myself immortal, you know, live on in people’s memory.”

His brow crooked. “You’re that good?”

I hesitated. I’d always kept my baking under wraps, like my identity, because some people could taste magic and know its origin. “I don’t know. I want to try, to see how good I am. I like my baking, and most other people do, too, but I don’t have enough experience.”

“Now’s your chance. And here we are.”

The mech cab dropped down at those words, but he had his arm around me this time, so when the restraints relaxed and he helped me out, I wasn’t weaving all over the place.

“All right?” he asked, looking down at me with that slight curve of his luscious lips, eyes alight, amused, but warm. He had a much warmer personality than you’d think a devil would have.

Not that he was actually warm or kind. I forced my spine straight and nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

I pushed through the door, sending the bell jangling, and stepping into the steamy, rice-and-sushi scented goodness. I walked past the multi-seasonal decorations and went to the counter where they served elixirs.

A middle-aged, dark-haired woman who smelled of herbs and looked like Lieutenant Sato leaned on the bar and frowned at me. “How can I help you?” Her expression was guarded. If she was stalking my shop, she must know who I was.

“I’m Kesty Charles. I just moved in next door, and we’re opening a bakery. I wondered if you had any favorites that I should add to the menu. I’m so delighted that there’s such a great sushi shop so close where I can get lunch. Baking magic takes so much energy.”

She sniffed then leaned closer, actually sniffing before she pulled away. “You’re really a fairy-goblin? How does that work? I thought it was an impossible combination.”

“Oh. Well, my mother was a big believer in doing impossible things. Of course she’s dead now.” My stomach lurched and my heart constricted. Feelings welled up that I’d pushed away while I’d been so busy working. Not thinking. Not dwelling on the past.

Philius moved closer, slipping his hand around my waist, lending me comfort and strength before nodding at the woman. “We’ll take a large sushi boat. Feel free to use your discernment. If the rumors are true, we won’t be disappointed.” He led me past the mix of seasonal décor, from Easter Bunnies to Valentine’s hearts to an enormous pumpkin, past a large aquarium, and to the seating area, where you could watch the piano player and the singers who surrounded the bar.

“I’m fine,” I said to Philius even as I sniffled. My mother should’ve been here. She would’ve known all the songs they were singing and what I should do about how much I liked the devil.

He handed me a handkerchief with blue butterflies embroidered around the edges. See? Like that. What could I do when his handkerchiefs were as adorable as his rabbit? “She’s very rude. She was trying to push your emotions, to get an honest reaction out of you so she’d know exactly what she’s dealing with. I suppose it’s good to be cautious with a new neighbor, but to talk about your blood like that was absolutely ill-mannered. And to press your emotions when you’ve been through so many recently…” His face was stern. Maybe he’d go give her a lecture. My mother had been an excellent lecturer.

I smiled at him as I wiped my eyes. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

I opened my mouth to say, for understanding, but instead, “For paying for dinner. There are definite perks to this contract.”

He leaned back and inclined his head so his cheekbones were extra gorgeous. “Indeed. I can’t have you fainting after you’ve poured all your energy and soul into your baked goods and the rabbit. One would be quite enough. I don’t suppose you bake croissants.”

I hesitated then smiled. “Do you think I should?” This was the first thing he’d said he liked. I’d make him the best croissants he’d ever tasted.

He hesitated. “You should do whatever you want, but I do tend to like croissants with strawberries.”

“I’ll need to source some good strawberries.”

“I can do that, if you like. I have an excellent strawberry provider.”

“Did you make a deal with him?”