Vivi Anna - Seducing the Hunter

“Damn it,” he mumbled under his breath.

He stared at the food, unsure of exactly what to do. He could make himself a plate and put the rest in containers for leftovers. Or he could fix another plate and take it down to his captive. Demons didn’t derive any nutrition from food, but he knew they reveled in all mortal pleasures. Like food, and drink, and sex.

Resigned, Quinn grabbed two plates from the cupboard and put spaghetti onto both. Picking up one plate, he got a fork and took it down to the basement.

He flicked on the lights. As if weighted down with leaden feet, he descended the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he saw Daeva sitting cross-legged in the middle of the pentagram with her eyes closed. It looked as if she was meditating.

“Oh, my, is that spaghetti Bolognese I smell?” Her eyelids slowly fluttered open.

He gestured with the plate. “I wasn’t sure if you were hungry or not.”

She studied him for a moment, then nodded. “I am.”

Nearing the pentagram, he reached across the lines and handed her the food. She took it from him and set it in her lap. She picked up the fork, spun it in the noodles, then put it in her mouth. She grinned around the mouthful. When she was done chewing, she looked up at him.

“Good Lord, that is so good.” She twirled her fork in it again. “I’ve instructed the goblins on how to prepare it properly, but they never get it right. It always tastes so sour. Must be the water in hell. Can’t seem to get that sulfur flavor out, no matter how long you boil it.”

He watched her eat, a sense of pride and satisfaction filling his gut. He’d always loved that Rachel had enjoyed his cooking. There had been many nights when they’d spent hours in the kitchen together preparing a meal, talking, laughing, eating. The thought now made him sad. And angry. Angry that those memories were tarnished by her true existence. By Daeva’s existence.

“Where’s yours?” she asked.

“Upstairs.”

“Didn’t want to eat with the demon?”

“Something like that.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She shoveled more of the spaghetti into her mouth.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore.”

She set her fork down and regarded him. “Then don’t.”

“I can’t in good conscience give you what you’re asking for.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t let you possess someone, Daeva. Take over her life like that. You have no idea what I had to deal with after you left Rachel’s body.”

“Did she die?” Something about asking that made her face pale. She actually looked extremely concerned.

“No, she woke up and was hysterical. She had no idea what she was doing there or who I was.”

“What did you do with her?”

“I took her to her parents’ house and told them she fell and hit her head and didn’t remember me.” He rubbed at his face, hating to have to relive it. “They took her to the hospital and ran tests on her. I slowly removed myself from her life. Her parents hated me for it.”

She eyed him intensely for a moment. He thought maybe she was going to apologize to him, but then she sighed, and leaned back onto her hands. “You can have the veto over the body I possess.”

“In what way?”

“When the time comes, after you have the chest in your hands, I will pick a body and if you disagree, you can veto me.”

Quinn looked at her, mulling over her words, trying to find the catch, the loophole. There were always loopholes in demon deals. But in every scenario he conjured in his mind, he couldn’t find a way she could deceive him. Ultimately, in the end, he could stop her from possessing anyone. He just had to continually say no.

“Agreed.”

“Excellent.” She picked up her plate. “Just let me finish this, then we can hammer out the details.” She started to eat again.

Slightly off balance, Quinn mounted the stairs to head back to the kitchen to eat his dinner. All the way there, he was sure that she’d gotten the upper hand on him. She was much too calm and reserved about the whole thing. But, as he ate his spaghetti, he couldn’t figure out why.

Once he was finished eating, he returned to the basement with his book of Latin rites. Daeva was standing, her empty plate right on the edge of the pentagram. She must’ve pushed it as far as she could without crossing the lines.

“Okay. You ready?” she asked.

“No, but I guess at this juncture I don’t have a choice.”

She smiled. “You always have a choice Quinn. You’re human. You’ve got free will.”

He didn’t say anything else on the subject. He didn’t feel like having an ethical or theological discussion with a demon right now. “Once I release you from the pentagram, will you have powers?”

She nodded. “Although I’ll be losing some because of the bargain we’ve made. I won’t be able to zip through the ether with a snap of my fingers. For all intents and purposes I will be human. Well, a human with super strength and other goodies. Not sure what, though. Need to test them out.”

Quinn was nervous. He’d never released a demon from a bound pentagram before. That was how his father had died. On the job, after releasing a demon he thought he could trust. Demon and trust were two words that didn’t go together.

He’d dealt with demons when they’d been bound inside a pentagram and when they’d been possessing someone. But he couldn’t think of another way to find the chest. He knew that Daeva, alone, had hidden it a hundred years ago. If he didn’t bind her with an agreement, he was certain someone else would. Like Richter Collins of the Crimson Hall Cabal. Once the sorcerer found out that the demon was the only one with that knowledge, he’d be looking to make a deal with her. And he wouldn’t bother with ethics.

Quinn opened the book to the right page and, holding his hand out toward the pentagram, began speaking the Latin words of the ritual.

When he was done, he took his ceremonial dagger and cupped it in his hand, slicing his palm open. Blood dripping onto the cement floor, he held his hand out to Daeva.

“Now yours.”

Palm up, she offered her hand to him. He quickly drew the blade across her skin. Instantly, blood welled to the top.

“Until the bargain is complete, Daeva, Seductress of Shadows, you are bound to the Earth and to me.”

They shook hands, their blood mixing, the power of the bargain sealing them together. He could feel the potency of it sizzling the hair on his arms.

Quinn pulled his hand away first and quickly wrapped it with gauze. Daeva squeezed her hand tight, but blood dripped from the corners.

“You aren’t going to heal as fast,” he offered. “Give me your hand.”

Daeva stepped out of the pentagram to stand beside him. She looked around, seemingly surprised to find herself unbound by the blessed lines. She smiled and took in a deep breath. “Finally.”

He saw the extreme relief on her face and he wondered if this was her first time being free. Well, not completely free—she was bound to him, which meant no matter where she went he could find her or compel her to return to his side. She was also free from exorcism. Which meant no one could send her back to hell. Except for him, that was.

“You’re bleeding all over the place. Give me your damn hand.”

She held her hand out to him. As quick as he could, he cleaned her up and wrapped her wound.

She tested it by clenching and unclenching her fist, then nodded. “Thanks.”

As he’d doctored her hand, he’d noticed a few scars on her arm. They’d looked fresh and sore. He wondered what they were from but didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to seem as if he cared.

“Okay, before we go on this little adventure, we need to set some rules.”