Page 67 of Devils Don’t Deal

I didn’t have to do what he said, because he hadn’t collared me or stolen a deal I’d made with a devil, but I knocked anyway.

Tap, tap.

The door swung open, and there was the butler. Just kidding. It was the king himself, with his scarred face, wearing black silk pajamas.

No, some kind of kimono, and he looked so startlingly attractive that, for a moment, my brain got confused.

“I like your scar,” I said, exactly what the daffodil fairy had told me not to say.

For a moment, the world held its breath as the fairy king considered whether or not to kill me.

He nodded and turned, gesturing me into the stretch of darkness past the front door. “Your grandfather gave it to me,” he said. “He also liked it before I separated his head from his body.”

I swallowed hard at that image. “What can I say? My relatives have great taste.” I stepped into the shadows, heart quaking.

“Where is the partial soul?” he asked, closing the door and leaving us in complete black.

I blinked in the nothing and took a deep breath. The air smelled fine, clean, clear. I wasn’t going to suffocate however dark it was. “At home. I don’t usually bring him to dinner. Is that a problem?”

He lit a match then I got to see his face in the flickering light of a single flame. Terrifying, but also kind of a relief. It was nice to be able to see the ugliness of his soul right there on the surface. “You treat it like a child holds a teddy bear for comfort. You may need comfort.”

I gurgled a laugh. “Thank you for considering how comfortable I am as you work out how to kill me before the five years are up.”

He smiled back at me, twisting the scars in a way that made my stomach lurch. “Five years is a blink. I have no trouble waiting patiently for the vengeance I crave.” His voice sparkled and danced on my senses in the most terrifying way.

I had trouble swallowing. The siren in him was not a good guy. Neither was the fairy.

He actually winked at me before he turned and walked through the darkness with that one flickering flame in his fingers.

I followed quickly because I didn’t want to be left in the darkness. The pretty daffodil prince hadn’t come in. I only realized that as we reached a wall of shadows, and the fairy king passed through it like it was a black liquid door. I followed before I started having hysterics.

I stepped through a waterfall of rainbows and happiness. I blinked at the gloriously beautiful pool filled by the waterfall I’d just come out of and surrounded by moss-covered cliffs on all sides. Floating in the center of the pond was the devil.

“This is the weirdest place. Did you build it? Impressive.” I looked up at the sparkling clear sky, bluer than blue, with distant puffy clouds that looked like dreams.

“There is your devil,” he said, gesturing at the person floating in the water. At least he was face-up. His eyes were closed, and he looked like he was sleeping. He was also wearing nothing but a pair of black shorts, and the scars on him were absolutely horrifying. Did he seem peaceful? Mostly.

“Can I touch him?”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“To see if he’s dead.”

“He has no heart to beat. Doesn’t that mean he’s already been dead for as long as you’ve known him?”

I searched the fairy king’s face. “Oh. I have his soul, so as long as his soul is healthy, he’s all right, right?”

He studied me for a long moment before he gave me a short nod. “Well enough. Won’t you sit?” He gestured at the picnic blanket and the dishes of fairy food set out to the right, in a lovely grassy spot between the cliffs and the pond.

“Oh. Right. I’m here for dinner.”

He gave me another terrifyingly fascinating smile. That scar. “That’s the deal, is it not?”

I nodded and stepped off the stone ledge down onto the grass. I took off my shoes then curled up on the blanket while he took his place across from me. “What’s for dinner?” I looked up at him until he slipped off his shoes, leaning back on one arm while he picked up a bottle of something and poured me a glass of rainbow elixir.

I took the glass and smiled at him. “What is it?”

“Are you worried I’ll kill you?” he asked in the silkiest voice imaginable.