Page 24 of A Date With Demons
I’ll enjoy my time of listening to the little witch ramble after sex, while it lasts.
“All this time, I thought that my vision was wrong. But it wasn’t wrong. I was wrong for sitting around waiting for my date to show up,” Portia says, her head resting against my chest, while my head rests against Rewd’s. “All along, my vision was showing me that I can make my own destiny. I can make the life that I want.”
My heart clenches at that.
“You can. We cannot,” I say.
Portia sits up. “Can’t you? What is the price to keep you here with me?” she asks. “Both of you.”
My heart beats in my throat. “I should not have said that.”
She shakes her head, her mind clearly fraught with ideas now. “What was to be the price of summoning you here for one date? Maybe we could…I don’t know…extend it for a little while.”
I sit up and turn toward Rewd. He lets out a sigh. He knows that we can’t ask her to pay anything.
“We could not ask that of you,” I say, turning back to Portia. “For twelve hours of bliss between a human and a demon, the price is to drain away your will to live. For a witch, it is to drain your magic.”
She thinks about this for a moment. A wicked smile pulls on her lips. “I don’t feel drained. I feel energized! I feel so full of magic I could vomit a whole new grimoire full of spells right now! That’s a fair exchange in my book.”
“Portia,” I caution, but she’s not listening.
“What if I kept you? What would have to happen then? What terrible things would happen?”
She isn’t as afraid of the consequences as she should be.
“It’s unheard of,” I say.
“So, the price isn’t up to you, is it?” Portia asks. “You don’t even know what that would be.”
Rewd and I exchange a glance.
“We want to stay,” Rewd says. “Both of us. With you. Forever.”
I hold my breath. That can’t be what Portia wants. The price would be too great.
“The price of one date with a demon-for-hire was apparently that I let you drain my life force, my magic. As far as I can tell,” Portia says, “I’m stronger.”
I stiffen when I realize what could happen. Two demons working with a witch could unleash so much pain in this dimension. Twelve hours ago, I would not have cared one iota about human suffering. Portia has changed everything.
“The price is too much for you,” I say. “We may be devoted to you, but the mere breach of the accord between witches and demons would create a tear in the fabric between your dimension and the hell dimension. There would be magical warfare.”
Rewd adds, “If we stay, then you are bound to us. We could never go back to hell. You are doomed to be linked to creatures from hell for the rest of your life.”
She blinks. “Forever?”
“Witches live long lives,” I remind her. “Demons even longer. You’ll have to spend the rest of your days defending us against attacks from everyone who doesn’t like our kind. You’ll have to explain yourself to the witch community. Are you ready for that?”
Rewd’s eyes are downcast. He knows what comes next.
The wind in the trees outside picks up, beginning to howl. “Even if the window still had glass in it, it could not stop the evil coming to collect us,” Rewd says.
Portia stands up, wrapping herself in the sheet, and pads over to the spell table.
“Nothing can stop evil except white magic,” she says. “Wait here.”
Clutching Magda’s grimoire to her chest, Portia disappears down the stairs.
Outside, the wind is picking up. Light seeps through the trees. Our time is almost up.